Хью Лофтинг - Doctor Dolittle in the Moon

The Doctor talked to various groups and individuals; and in the course of his investigations he came across several plants who, while they had begun their peaceful lives close to a nice pool or stream which they could use as a mirror, had sadly watched while the water had dried up and left nothing but sun–baked clay for them to look into.

So then and there John Dolittle halted his questioning of the Vanity Lilies for a spell while he set to work to provide these unfortunates, whose natural mirrors had dried up, with something in which they could see themselves.

We had no regular looking–glasses of course, beyond the Doctor's own shaving mirror, which he could not very well part with. But from the provisions we dug out various caps and bottoms of preserved fruits and sardine tins. These we polished with clay and rigged up on sticks so that the lilies could see themselves in them.

"These we rigged up on sticks"

"It is a fact, Stubbins," said the Doctor, "that the natural tendency is always to grow the way you want to grow. These flowers have a definite conscious idea of what they consider beautiful and what they consider ugly. These contrivances we have given them, poor though they are, will therefore have a decided effect on their evolution."

That is one of the pictures from our adventures in the Moon which always stands out in my memory: the Vanity Lilies, happy in the possession of their new mirrors, turning their heads this way and that to see how their pollen–covered petals glowed in the soft light, swaying with the wind, comparing, whispering and gossiping.

I truly believe that if other events had not interfered, the Doctor would have been occupied quite contentedly with his study of these very advanced plants for months. And there was certainly a great deal to be learned from them. They told him for instance of another species of lily that he later came to call the Poison Lily or Vampire Lily . This flower liked to have plenty of room and it obtained it by sending out deadly scents (much more serious in their effects than those unpleasant ones which the Vanities used) and nothing round about it could exist for long.

Following the directions given by the Vanity Lilies we finally ran some of these plants down and actually conversed with them—though we were in continual fear that they would be displeased with us and might any moment send out their poisonous gases to destroy us.

From still other plants which the Vanities directed us to the Doctor learned a great deal about what he called "methods of propagating." Certain bushes, for example, could crowd out weeds and other shrubs by increasing the speed of their growth at will and by spreading their seed abroad several times a year.

In our wanderings, looking for these latter plants, we came across great fields of the "moon bells" flourishing and growing under natural conditions. And very gorgeous indeed they looked, acres and acres of brilliant orange. The air was full of their invigorating perfume. The Doctor wondered if we would see anything of our giant moth near these parts. But though we hung about for several hours we saw very few signs of insect life.

"I don't understand it at all," John Dolittle muttered. "What reason at least can the moth who brought us here have for keeping out of our way?"

"His reasons may not be his own," murmured Polynesia.

"What do you mean?" asked the Doctor.

"Well," said she, "others may be keeping him—and the rest, away from us."

"You mean the Moon Man?" said John Dolittle.

But to this Polynesia made no reply and the subject was dropped.

"That isn't the thing that's bothering me so much," said Chee–Chee.

There was a pause. And before he went on I know that all of us were quite sure what was in his mind.

"It's our getting back home," he said at last. "Getting here was done for us by these moon folks—for whatever reason they had. But we'd stand a mighty poor chance of ever reaching the Earth again if they're going to stand off and leave us to ourselves to get back."

Another short spell of silence—during which we all did a little serious and gloomy thinking.

"Oh, well," said the Doctor, "come, come! Don't let's bother about the stiles till we reach them. After all we don't know for certain that these—er—whoever it is—are definitely unfriendly to us. They may have reasons of their own for working slowly. You must remember that we are just as strange and outlandish to them as they and their whole world are to us. We mustn't let any idea of that kind become a nightmare. We have only been here, let's see, not much over two weeks. It is a pleasant land and there is lots to be learned. The Vegetable Kingdom is clearly well disposed towards us. And if we give them time I'm sure that the—er—others will be too, in the end."

Another matter which came up about this time was the effect of moon food on ourselves. Polynesia was the first to remark upon it.

"Tommy," said she one day, "you seem to be getting enormously tall—and fat, aren't you?"

"'Tommy, you seem to be getting enormously tall'"

"Er—am I?" said I. "Well, I had noticed my belt seemed a bit tight. But I thought it was just ordinary growing."

"And the Doctor too," the parrot went on. "I'll swear he's bigger—unless my eyesight is getting queer."

"Well, we can soon prove that," said John Dolittle. "I know my height exactly—five feet two and a half. I have a two–foot rule in the baggage. I'll measure myself against a tree right away."

When the Doctor had accomplished this he was astonished to find that his height had increased some three inches since he had been on the Moon. Of what my own had been before I landed, I was not so sure; but measurement made it too a good deal more than I had thought it. And as to my waist line, there was no doubt that it had grown enormously. Even Chee–Chee, when we came to look at him, seemed larger and heavier. Polynesia was of course so small that it would need an enormous increase in her figure to make difference enough to see.

"His height had increased some three inches"

But there was no question at all that the rest of us had grown considerably since we had been here.

"Well," said the Doctor, "I suppose it is reasonable enough. All the vegetable and insect world here is tremendously much larger than corresponding species in our own world. Whatever helped them to grow—climate, food, atmosphere, air–pressure, etc.—should make us do the same. There is a great deal in this for the investigation of biologists and physiologists. I suppose the long seasons—or almost no seasons at all, you might say—and the other things which contribute to the long life of the animal and vegetable species would lengthen our lives to hundreds of years, if we lived here continually. You know when I was talking to the Vampire Lilies the other day they told me that even cut flowers—which with them would mean of course only blossoms that were broken off by the wind or accident—live perfectly fresh for weeks and even months—provided they get a little moisture. That accounts for the moon bells which the moth brought down with him lasting so well in Puddleby. No, we've got to regard this climate as something entirely different from the Earth's. There is no end to the surprises it may spring on us yet. Oh, well, I suppose we will shrink back to our ordinary size when we return home. Still I hope we don't grow too gigantic. My waistcoat feels most uncomfortably tight already. It's funny we didn't notice it earlier. But, goodness knows, we have had enough to keep our attention occupied."

It had been indeed this absorbing interest in all the new things that the Moon presented to our eyes that had prevented us from noticing our own changed condition. The following few days, however, our growth went forward at such an amazing pace that I began seriously to worry about it. My clothes were literally splitting and the Doctor's also. Finally, taking counsel on the matter, we proceeded to look into what means this world offered of making new ones.