Part I Chapter 6 Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary by Hugh Lofting
The Fortunes of War
'My captors were evidently in a hurry,' began Pippinella the next evening when the Doctor and his animals had settled themselves to hear the continuation of her story. 'The baggage wagon was pushed over the jolting, cobbly streets on the run. It was growing dark, and I could not see whither I was being carried. The horses had been removed from the shafts and taken somewhere else.
'I think that these men who ran off with the regimental cart must have thought that it contained food. Because when they came to a quiet corner of the street they stopped and felt through the inside of it. I heard them cursing in the dark when their groping hands touched nothing but pots and pans and spare harness. And after they had put me back and hurried on I saw their faces in the glimmer of a street lamp, and the poor fellows looked dreadfully pinched and thin.
'I then supposed that their intention was to sell me and the wagon to get money to buy food with. And I was right. After they had gone a little further we turned into a narrow alley, passed under an archway and came into a big, big hall. It seemed to be some kind of factory workshop and the place was jammed with workers. It was dimly lighted with only a few candles and sputtering torches. The men were gathered in groups, talking in low voices, with their heads together. When my fellows pushed open the doors and entered all the whispering ceased. The crowd turned and glared at us.
'As soon as we were admitted the door was carefully locked and barred. And then I noticed that all the windows were covered with wooden shutters, so that the lights could not be seen from outside. And all of a sudden its dawned on me that I had been brought to the mine, or the big factory alongside of it, and that this was one of the buildings that the general had commanded the Fusiliers to bombard. I began to wonder how long it would be before he would have other troops brought to the town who would not hesitate to fire cannon–balls into crowded factories.
'As soon as the barring of the door had been attended to the men thronged around my little cart and started to claw through it to see what it contained. Suddenly a big man, who seemed to be a leader, ordered them in a rough voice to leave it alone. They fell back, evidently much afraid of him. Something in the man's face struck me as familiar and I began to cudgel my brain to think where I had seen him before. And then in a flash I remembered: it was the same man who had led the workers in their attack on the Marquis's castle.
'He went through the cart himself and told the disappointed crowd that it contained no food.
'"Then let's sell it and buy some,'" cried the man.
'But as it clearly would not bring enough to buy food for all of them, it was finally agreed that lots should be drawn and that the winner should get the cart.
'"And what about the canary?" called on. "Likely a man could get as much for him as for the old truck and all the pans put together."
'"All right," said the leader. "Then draw lots for the bird separate. We'll put two marked papers in the hat—one for the cart and one for the canary. The first winner gets his choice; the second gets what's left, and the rest get nothing."
'"Aye, Aye!" called the crowd. "That's fair enough."
'"Sh!" hissed the leader. "Not so loud! How do we know who's sneaking around outside? I don't trust them bloomin' Fusiliers—even though they did give in so easy. Talk low, talk low!"
'So my next experience as to have a lot of ragged workers draw lots for me. As I saw them crowding around the hat that contained bits of paper I wondered which of them I would fall to. Some of them looked hungry and wild enough to cook me and eat me. The prospects for the future were no pleasing.
'One by one they began picking out their bits of paper. Five, ten, fifteen opened them—and with a grunt of disgust flung them on the floor. It seemed to be taking hours, but of course it was really only minutes.
'At length a cry announced that a lucky ticket had been drawn. The owner brought it, smiling, to the leader and showed a rough cross in pencil on it.
'"Well, that gives you the first choice," said the big man. "Which are you going to take, the cart or the canary?"
'The man, a thin fellow with a limp, looked from the wagon to me and back to the wagon again, I didn't like his face.
'"The cart," he said at last, to my great delight.
'Another cry. A second lucky ticket had been drawn. I craned my neck to peer over the crowd and get a glimpse of the man's face. I finally saw him and my heart lifted. Although his cheeks were lined and gaunt with hunger it was a kind face.
'"The canary's yours," said the big man, handing him my cage. "And that's the end of the show."
'The winner took my cage in his hands and left the building. The question of food interested us both at this point more than anything else. Heaven only knows how long he had been going on half rations or less, and I had had no seed or water all day. As we went along I saw lots of autumn seed on weeds and wild flowers that would have made good eating for me—if only I could get at it. He, of course, not knowing what wild seeds are edible for canaries, couldn't help me. He did, however, stop by a stream and fill my water–bowl for me, which I was very glad of. And later he found some groundsel growing among the standing corn, and that, too, he gave me. I still felt hungry, but far less so than I had been.
'After he had come near to a farmhouse he hid my cage under a hedge and went forward to the door to ask for food for himself. Evidently the farmer's wife took pity on his haggard and hungry looks and gave him a good, square meal of bread and cold meat. He brought back a small crust when he came to fetch me and stuck it into the bars of my cage. It was good home–made bread and I could have eaten two more of the same size.
'So, both of us fortified with food, we set out to do the ten miles to the mining town that we eventually reached. It was a pleasant, sunny morning. And something of the sadness with which the grim night had weighed me down left my spirits as the man strode forward in the fresh early air, with my cage beneath his arm. He, too, seemed in cheerier mood. We were now upon a main highway running North and South. Wagons and carriages passed us occasionally, going either way. I hoped that one of these would offer us a lift, because travelling in a cage under a man's arm is not the most comfortable kind of journeying by a great deal. And, sure enough, after we had tramped along for about half an hour, the driver of a covered cart—a sort of general grocer's wagon—stopped and asked if we would like a lift. He was evidently going to the town we were bound for and I was delighted when my man put me in the back among the groceries and got up himself beside the driver.
'As it happened, my cage had been placed right next to a picket of oatmeal. I smelled it through the paper bag. It didn't take more than a moment for me to peck a hole through the covering, and I helped myself to a thimbleful of the grocer's wares. I felt rather mean doing it to the man who was giving us a free ride. But it was only a very little I took—not enough for anyone to miss—and I hadn't tasted food except for the crumb of bread for over twenty–four hours.
'My man chatted with the grocer as we drove. I gathered from the conversation that he had a brother, who was also a miner at this town we were coming to. Apparently it was his intention to stay at his house, if there was room, till he got a job in the mines.
'If I had known,' Pippinella continued in rather a sadly reminiscent voice, 'what sort of life I was coming to I wouldn't have been half as cheerful over that journey in spite of the nice, fresh morning. I had for some time now been among miners. But I didn't yet know anything what ever of their homes, their lives or their work.'