Chapter 23 Doctor Dolittle's Zoo by Hugh Lofting
THE CUNNING OF LUCIFER, THE JACKDAW
At this point some of the old pensioners at the back of the hall made another request that the Stable Mouse speak a little louder. John Dolittle suggested that she be given a tea-canister or something to stand on, so that her voice would carry to the rear of the Assembly Room. After a short delay an empty mustard tin was found, which served the purpose very well. And as soon as she had climbed up onto it and overcome her embarrassment the speaker continued:
“The jackdaw made some vulgar remark in answer to what I had said and hopped away from the door. We got onto the window-sill and watched him flopping across the yard through the deep, loose, fluffy snow. I felt sort of sorry for him. I could see he was hungry; and in that weather he might not find a scrap to eat in a whole day. I was about to call him back and give him some oats but Corky wouldn't let me.
“'Don't worry,' said he. 'He'll take care of himself.—Serve him right, the mean bully!'
“As he passed his old drinking-place the jackdaw just glanced at it expecting to find it frozen like all the other water out of doors. But behold! It wasn't. As a matter of fact the red-haired lad had specially come and broken the ice even before Mr. Jackdaw was abroad.
“Lucifer was just as thirsty as he was hungry. He floundered, half flying through the snow, towards the tap. Corky got dreadfully excited as he watched him. We both guessed that those twigs were some sort of trap—though how they worked neither of us knew as yet. This morning they were half covered with snow and looked like a regular innocent part of the landscape. The water was very tempting. Lucifer hopped nearer. And Corky got even more worked up.
“Finally Mr. Jackdaw jumped up on to the mound of twigs and took a long, long drink. Corky was disappointed. Nothing seemed to happen. It looked as though whatever machinery the twigs contained had failed to go off. And it was only when the bird started to leave the drinking-place that we realized what the trap was. The mound he was standing on stuck to his feet. The twigs had been covered with birdlime.
“Dear me, how he floundered and flopped and fluttered. And the more he fought and pulled and worked, the more the sticky twigs got gummed up with his feathers. We could see now that there were a whole lot of them beneath the snow; and by the time that the jackdaw had them all stuck to him it was quite clear that for the present he stood no chance whatever of flying or getting away.
“Then suddenly a door opened across the yard and the red-haired lad triumphantly came forth and took possession of the helpless Mr. Lucifer. Whereupon Corky proceeded to do somersaults of joy all over the stable.
“Well, you can be sure there was general rejoicing throughout the stables and the farm yard. For not only had Lucifer made himself objectionable to us, but he was thoroughly unpopular with every living thing in the whole neighborhood.
“The lad put him in a wicker cage whose bars were reinforced with wire; and he hung the cage—of all places—in our stable. I am bound to say that once more I felt sorry for the bird. It was bad enough to be caught and imprisoned; but then to be put where other creatures, of whom he had made enemies, could look at him all day while they rejoiced in their freedom, did seem to me a bit too much.
“And, oh, what a state he was in, poor wretch! The birdlime had made all his sleek plumage messy, so that he looked like some old silk hat brought in off the dust-heap. And for the first day he did nothing but bang his head against the bars trying to get out; so that he rubbed all the feathers off the top of his head and looked worse than ever.
“Corky, the heartless little imp, had a grand time sitting outside his cage and laughing at him. He had had to run away from Lucifer so often when he was free, he was determined to make up for it now that he had a chance. I thought this was mean and I told Corky so.
“'Besides,' I said, 'I'm still scared of him—even now.'
“'Oh,' said Corky, laughing, 'what can he do, the big bully? He's fixed now for good.'
“'Just the same,' I said, 'watch out. He's clever, don't forget.'
“All day long the jackdaw never said a word, not even in answer to Corky's most spiteful remarks. There was something dignified, as well as pathetic, in his downfall. He had now given up beating himself against the bars and just sat there, all huddled up at the bottom of his cage, the picture of despair. The only thing about him that seemed alive at all was his gleaming eyes full of bitter hatred. They looked like coals of fire as they followed every movement of Corky and the other mice who were taunting him outside the cage.
“It is curious how heartless some creatures can be. After Lucifer had sort of subsided that way, those little monkeys, Corky and his friends, got up on top of the cage and started dropping bits of mortar and putty down on the jackdaw's head. I tried my best to stop them, but there were too many of them and they wouldn't listen to me. Before long there must have been a good dozen gathered on top of the cage laughing and throwing things at their old enemy, the one-time bully of the stable yard. Truly Lucifer was paying a terrible price for a selfish life.
“And, alas! My fears proved right. That terrible bird was still dangerous, even when he was shut up in a cage. While those little fools were playing their heartless game one afternoon I was cleaning up our home under the hay-loft floor. Suddenly I heard a dreadful shriek. I rushed out of the hole and bounded down through a trap door into the stable below.
“Corky's friends were all standing around the jackdaw's cage on the window-sill, their eyes popping out of their heads with horror. I looked for Corky among them. He wasn't there. On coming nearer I found that he was inside the cage firmly held in the jackdaw's right claw! As usual, he had been more daring than the rest. And as he had crawled over the cage he had come just a fraction of an inch too near the bird he was teasing. Like a flash—he told me this afterwards—Lucifer had thrust his long beak between the bars, caught him by the tail and pulled him inside. When I came up Corky was still bawling blue murder at the top of his voice.
“'Be quiet!' said the jackdaw. 'Stop struggling or I'll kill you right away.—Where's his wife?' he asked, turning to the others.
“'Here I am,' said I, stepping up to the cage.
“'Good!' said he. 'You are just in time to save your husband's life. I want a hole gnawed through the bottom of this cage right away—one big enough for me to get out of. Mice can eat through wood. I can't. There is room for you to get under—the legs of the cage are high enough. But please waste no time. That lad is likely to come back any moment.'
“'But,' I began, 'it would take...'
“'Don't argue!' said he shortly. 'If a hole isn't made in the bottom of this cage large enough for me to escape through before nightfall, I'll bite your husband's head off.'
“Well, I could see he meant it. And the only thing for me to do was to obey—unless I wanted to be left a widow. Lucky for me it was that the other mice were standing around. I knew I could never nibble a hole alone, in so short a time, big enough for that great hulk to pass through. And, scared to death as Corky's brave friends were, I finally persuaded them to help me.
“With the jackdaw still firmly clutching his vitals, Corky watched us as we slipped under the floor of the cage and set to work.
“It wasn't easy. And if my husband's life hadn't depended on it I doubt very much whether it would have been done in time. The main difficulty was in getting started. As you all know—but perhaps the Doctor and Tommy do not—to begin biting a hole in the middle of a flat board is, even for a mouse, an almost impossible task. To chew off a corner, or to widen an old hole that has been already begun, that's different.
“However, I was desperate; and somehow—my teeth were sore for weeks afterwards—I got four holes started in the bottom of that cage, one in each corner, in the first quarter of an hour. Then I got eight other mice, two to each hole, to continue the work. As soon as one mouse's jaws got tired I took him off the job and put a fresh mouse on. I even went down into the foundations of the stables and gathered together all the mice I could find. Corky had always been popular with the neighborhood; and as soon as they heard that his life was in danger they were willing enough to assist. In this way I had continuous relays of fresh help at work.
“Before very long we had those four holes pretty nearly joined up. There was only a little strip of wood scarcely wider than a pencil keeping the bottom of that cage from falling right out, whole.
“The old jackdaw, still clutching his wretched victim, watched the work with an eagle eye. His plan was, as soon as the bottom fell, to pry the cage over on its side. This he could easily do directly he got his feet on the window-sill, because the cage wasn't very heavy.
“Well, we only just finished in time—in time for Corky, that is. Because I'm certain that if we had been interrupted before we had it done the jackdaw would have surely killed him. As the bottom of the cage clattered out Lucifer let go his victim at last, and with one twist of his powerful bill, not only threw the cage on its side, but hurled it right down to the stable floor—with Corky inside it.
“At that moment the lad came in and saw his precious pet standing, free, on the window-sill. He leapt to grab him. But Lucifer with one curving swoop skimmed neatly over his head and out through the stable door into the wide world; while all around the bewildered lad the mice, who had freed the bird whom they hated worse than poison, scuttled and scattered to safety.”