Hugh Lofting: Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary

'This road led round, in a wandering sort of zig–zag, back into the town on the far side,' continued Jip. 'There, the wind was against me again. And to find him by myself among the houses would be pretty nearly impossible, even if he did not go on through the town—which he probably did. I'm sorry to have failed you, Doctor. but you see how things were, don't you.'

'Oh, quite, Jip, quite.' said the Doctor. 'Too bad, too bad! Have you anything to suggest that we might do?'

'We could go into the town,' said Jip gloomily. 'The three of us, by hunting through it thoroughly, might run him down. But I have my doubts. I've a notion that customer had been chased before and knows a good deal about the game of lying low.'

The Doctor explained to Steve what the dog had said and the three of them, after the door had been put back in its place to keep the rain out, made their way down into the town. By the time they got there it was three o'clock in the morning. As yet, except for a sleepy watchman in the market square, there was no one abroad.

The Doctor had very little hope of accomplishing anything, but he proceeded with the help of his companions to make a thorough search of all the streets. Each one took a section of the town, and it was agreed that they should meet again in the square after an hour had passed.

But quite early in the hunt John Dolittle realized that it would be perfectly easy for a man to hide, when hunted at such a time as this with all the townsfolk abed, to find some shrubbery in a garden, or a stable, or other place of refuge, from which he could not be routed without walking up the whole town. And as the nature of their business was something which Steve did not wish to have made public, it would not be possible to arrest him in the ordinary way.

When the Doctor returned to the square the first of the market gardeners were beginning to arrive with their wagons of vegetables. While he waited for the return of Steve and Jip. John Dolittle reviewed the events of the night; he tried to imagine what he would do, were be the hunted man. The only idea that came to him was that he would most likely try to make his way to London where it would be easy to lose oneself in the crowds. With this in mind he made inquiries of the farmers who were arriving from that direction, hoping to hear that one of them had seen the tramp with the sacking bundle under his arm. But they all gave him the same reply. Nobody had seen the stranger the Doctor described.

Neither Steve nor Jip, when they finally turned up, had any better report to give than his own. It was decided then to have breakfast and talk over what they would do next.

BREAKFAST was a sad affair. Steve's dejection over the loss of his papers affected all the members of the party. The Doctor sat in silence, eating his boiled egg, with little relish, while Steve just pushed the bacon on his plate from one spot to the other.

'You know, Doctor,' he began, 'I don't believe I was ever meant to finish my book. I think I had better drop the whole thing.'

'I wouldn't do that,' replied the Doctor. Men like you are needed in this topsy–turvy world. If someone doesn't do something about the unfortunate people in other countries they may start another war—and then, sooner or later we'd get mixed up in it, too. Cheer up, Steve. We're not giving up yet. That fellow may still be lurking about round here—waiting for a chance to get a ride up to London.'

'And if he does,' said Steve, 'how on earth are we ever going to find him there?'

'We found you, didn't we?' said the Doctor. 'Cheapside and his sparrow gangs spent less than a day doing it, too.' The Doctor smiled. 'I wish we had had him here; that thief wouldn't have got very far with your papers.' And turning to Jip, the Doctor went on:

'I don't blame you, Jip. Not even a pack of blood hounds could have held his scent in that wind. But birds—with their wonderful ability to dart in and out of trees—could have kept him in sight when he went into the woods.'

Jip looked a little crestfallen.

'But, Doctor,' he said, 'You forget, it was pitch dark in that woods and—'

'So it was,' said the doctor thoughtfully. 'So it was, Jip—I had forgotten. Well, now, don't worry. I still think you're the best tracker I ever knew.'

With that Jip brightened up. 'The crowds are gathering in the market square,' he said. 'Couldn't we just walk round and see if I can pick up his scent?'

'A splendid idea, Jip,' said John Dolittle. 'I'll pay the innkeeper for our breakfast and lodging and we'll get started.'

While explaining the new plan to Steve, the Doctor finished his tea and called for his bill. Pippinella had breakfasted handsomely on toast crumbs and bits of Steve's neglected bacon and was ready to start off on the hunt again. She took her place on her friend's shoulder and said to the Doctor:

'Please tell Steve that I can look out for myself. He might waste time trying to protect me when he should be concentrating on catching the rascal who has his papers.'

'Yes, Pippinella,' said the Doctor. 'I'll explain to him what you said.'

Then they walked among the fruit and vegetable stalls peering into the faces of those who came to buy. Jip kept sniffing at the heels of each passer–by until someone accidentally bumped him on the nose with a heavy boot. Jip let out a squeal of pain and rubbed his paw over his aching nose.

'Serves me right,' he mumbled. 'I'm acting like an amateur. If he's anywhere around here I'll get his scent without having to put my nose on every pair of heels in the market–place.'

The Doctor and Pippinella laughed at Jip's remark. But Steve, not understanding dog language, looked more put out at the heartlessness of their laughter until the Doctor explained.

'Jip is right,' John Dolittle said, after he'd repeated the dog's remark. 'We're all too tense. I think we had better go and sit down for a while. We can watch people coming and going from the bench over there.'

The sun was warm and the Doctor and Steve were very tired, not having slept at all the night before. Fully intending to keep a sharp look out for the thief, they however, soon found themselves dozing off into a deep slumber. Jip was curled up at the Doctor's feet, his head on his paws, watching with one eye open and the other snatching a moment of sleep now and then, the people milling about the square. It wasn't long before he, too, gave up and went to sleep.

But Pippinella was wide awake. Something about the night's adventures had fired her imagination. She felt as if she were living part of her life over again—just which part she couldn't decide. But there was an excitement in the air—a kind of anticipation—as she sat on Steve's sleeping shoulder watching the activity all around her.

Suddenly, as the crowd parted in front of her, Pippinella saw a familiar figure in a cashmere shawl with a market basket on her arm, walk briskly along the path in front of a group of vegetable stalls.

'Aunt Rosie!' whispered Pippinella. 'I'd forgotten she lived near her.'

Without waking her three companions, the canary flew over the heads of the villages and landed on Aunt Rosie's shoulder.

'E–e–eh!' squealed the little old lady, dropping her basket and throwing her arms into the air. 'What's that?—What's that?'

As she turned her head to see what had frightened her she gasped with astonishment.

'Pippinella!' she cried. 'I do declare! What a start you gave me. Where did you come from? Why, I thought you were up in London. I saw you in the Opera. Quite a celebrity you are these days. And just imagine—you lived in my very own parlour!'

While she chattered on, a gentleman, who had stopped to watch the queer behaviour of the little old lady, picked up Aunt Rosie's basket, and with a bow, handed it to her.