Part III Chapter 6 Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary by Hugh Lofting
The Search for the Missing Papers
The party reached its destination late in the evening and, after spending the night at the inn, proceeded next morning to the mill. Things here were, of course, in a more dilapidated condition than before. But it surprised the Doctor somewhat to find the door to the kitchen unlocked and a great litter of nut shells and fruit stalks and other rubbish about the floors and window–sills. This he at first supposed must have been left by rats or squirrels. But of these creatures themselves—or, indeed, of any animal life—nothing could be seen. Hanging from a beam on the ceiling were two bats fast asleep.
In the centre of the kitchen floor was the hole where Steve had kept his papers. Beside it lay the big stone that had covered it, just as he had left it when, after discovering that this property had gone, he had departed, determined to proceed to London.
In bringing Jip the Doctor had hoped that his keen sense of smell and his eye for tracks might help in the search. And they were hardly inside the door when Jip put his nose down in the hole and sniffed long and noisily.
'Well,' asked the Doctor, 'what about it, Jip?'
For a moment Jip did not answer but continued sniffing and snuffling at the hole in the floor. Then he smelt the stone that had been the lid, or cover, to the hole. Finally, he looked up at the Doctor and said:
'The scents are mostly quite old ones and therefore very faint. It's curious the strongest of them is a badger—but not in the room here, only in the hole.'
'How odd!' said the Doctor. 'Badgers don't usually have much to do with buildings. But how about the scent of men? That's there, too, isn't it?'
'Yes,' said Jip, 'surely. But it is very dim. Of course I can plainly smell your friend the window–cleaner. The scent of his hands on the stone is fairly distinct still. But other men have been in the room around the hole quite a while before, and some again since Steve as here, I should judge. That's what puzzles me so. It would seem as though there had been two lots of men here—at different times. And then on top of it all the smell of this old badger is so strong that I'm surprised the other scents are not drowned out entirely. It is a very difficult problem in smelling altogether.'
'Humph!' muttered Steve gloomily, though of course he had not understood what Jip said. 'I'm afraid I've brought you on a fool's errand, Doctor. Everything is pretty much as I left it. You can see for yourself that the hole is empty.'
'What did he say, Doctor?' asked Jip. 'I didn't quite get that.'
'He is discouraged,' said John Dolittle. 'He fears that there isn't much chance of your doing anything.'
'Well, don't let him go away yet,' said Jip. 'I haven't finished by any means.'
'There's some sort of mystery here,' Jip continued. 'It's funny how different those two lots of men smelt. The first lot had a sort of office smell—parchment, sealing wax and ink and all that sort of thing. Probably there were two in the party. And the other was an open–air man, smelled of wood fires, stables, the mud of roads and rank tobacco. Oh, look out! Don't disturb that hole, Doctor!'
John Dolittle had knelt down and was feeling around in the loose earth that lay at the bottom of the hole.
'Why, Jip?' he asked, rising.
'You'll get the smells all mixed,' said the dog. 'Let's just leave it exactly as we found it. It'll be much easier to pick up a scent so. The first thing we've got to do is to try and run down that old badger. While you're going over the mill on the inside to see if you can find out anything I'll make a circle outside round the hill and try to pick up that badger's trail. I have a kind of notion that if we can only get hold of him he'll be able to tell us a whole lot.'
'Why?' asked the Doctor.
'Well—I've a kind of notion,' said the dog.
Jip, who as you know was quite a wonder at the fine arts of smelling and tracking, dearly loved to wrap a certain amount of mystery around his doings when employed on work of this kind. The Doctor was always willing to humour him in this and never insisted on an answer if the great expert seemed unwilling to give one. So this morning he just drew Steve away and set about examining the house and left Jip to his own devices.
All this time Pippinella was tucked away in her little travelling cage in the Doctor's pocket, she had kept absolutely quiet as she didn't want to be a bother to them. But she was relieved when John Dolittle put his hand in his pocket and drew her out.
'My goodness, Pippinella,' said the Doctor anxiously. 'I'd forgotten all about you. I am sorry,'
'That's all right. Doctor,' said the canary, blinking at the unaccustomed light. 'Perhaps if you let me out I could be of some help to you and Jip.'
'Certainly,' said John Dolittle, releasing the catch on the cage door. 'But don't go too far away from us. We may have to run for it and we don't want to leave you behind.'
'I'll be careful,' said Pippinella. 'I'll just ride around on Steve's shoulder—if you don't mind.'
'Not at all,' said the Doctor. 'Your place is with him.'
Of course the window–cleaner could not understand the conversation between the Doctor and Pippinella but he smiled and stroked her head when she flew on to his shoulder.
'Good old Pip,' said he. 'It's like old times to see you there.'
The Doctor with Steve then made a thorough examination of the premises both inside and out. They discovered very little, beyond what appeared to be signs that the mill had been occupied not so very long gao. There were still bits of candles ends here and there, some mouldy apple peel, a needle and thread which the window–cleaner was quite sure he had not left behind.
These, of course, might have showed nothing more than that the farmer had let the mill again to some other person since Steve had left. But both the Doctor and Steve thought it wiser not to go and ask him.
In the mean time the hour for lunch arrived and the Doctor sat down with his companion to enjoy the meal Dab–Dab had prepared for them. And still Jip had not returned. Indeed, it was four o'clock in the afternoon before he showed up. And when he did he looked anything but satisfied with the results of his expedition.
'It does beat everything,' he sighed as he flopped down wearily on the kitchen floor, 'how far a badger can travel when he makes up his mind to move his quarters. Holy smoke! Since I last saw you, Doctor, I've covered a circle a good twenty miles across, but not a vestige of that long–snouted old vagabond could I find. I struck many a trail, dozens—none of them very fresh—but I followed each one to the bitter end, just to make sure. They all wound up the same—at the old hole which Mr Badger had let out to some beetles a month or so before I got there. Then I consulted all the farm dogs within miles. Most of them knew him—and said he was a funny, cunning dodger. They'd never been able to catch him, though every one of them had tried many times. They reckoned it was about two or three months since he had disappeared. And that's all I got for one of the heaviest days work I've ever put in.'
'Perhaps some of the dogs killed him—ones whom you didn't talk with,' said the Doctor. 'Or possibly he may have died of old age. Badgers don't live terribly long, you know.'
'No,' said Jip patiently. 'I hardly think that's worth taking into account. This fellow was not an old badger and from what I hear he should have been easily able to take care of himself against dogs. And, as for traps, well, you know how farm dogs get around. They nose into every corner of the countryside and find out everything; they say there aren't any traps set in these parts. And there you are.'
'Humph!' said the Doctor. 'And you couldn't find any other badgers?'
'Not one,' muttered Jip.
The Doctor gazed through the dirty, cobwebby kitchen window for a moment, thoughtfully watching the setting sun that reddened the sky in the West.
'How about the rats and the mice in this place? Pippinella asked. 'There used to be plenty of them when we lived there. Perhaps they could tell us something.'
'That's what I was thinking as I came back across the fields,' said Jip. 'But I don't suppose the duffers will know. They never know anything useful. But we might try. You'll have to do it, of course. They're scared to death of me. I'd better get outside so they won't smell me so strong.
'All right,' said the Doctor. 'I'll see what I can do.'
And then, as soon as Jip had disappeared, the Duke of Loughborough, otherwise known as Steve, was treated to the spectacle of John Dolittle summoning his friends the rats. Standing in the centre of the kitchen floor the great naturalist suddenly screwed up his face and squeaked in an extraordinary high voice, at the same time gently scratching the wood of the table–top with his finger–nails. Then he sat down in the chair and waited.
After five minutes had passed and nothing had happened the Doctor went to another part of the room and repeated his peculiar summons. But still neither rats nor mice appeared.
'That's very extraordinary,' said John Dolittle. 'I wonder why they don't come. A place like this, unoccupied, must be simply riddled with rats.'
Just as he was about to go through his performance, for a third time Jip scratched at the door and the Doctor let him in.
'It's no use,' the dog said. 'You can save yourself the trouble, Doctor. There are no rats here.'
'None here!' cried the Doctor. 'Why, that's hardly possible. I should have said this was an ideal home for rats and mice.'
'No,' said Jip. 'There isn't a one. I've been around the outside examining the place where the holes come up into the open air. I know the looks of a hole that's occupied. Even without smelling it I can tell whether it's in use or not. And I didn't find a single one that rats had passed through in weeks.'
'Well,' said the Doctor, 'I'm not going to doubt the opinion of an old ratter like you, Jip. But it's most extraordinary. I wonder what's the reason for it.'
'Poison,' said Jip shortly, 'rat poison. Lucky for me they used a kind I know the smell of. I picked up a bone round the back of the mill. And I was just going to start chewing it up when I caught a sniff that made me drop it like a red–hot poker. I've been laid up once by eating meat that had been poisoned and set out for rats to nibble. And I'll never get caught again. For two weeks I was so sick I could scarcely move. Well, to go back: after I'd dropped the bone I started to nose around the outhouses and I came across some bits of stale bread that had more poison smeared on them. Then I found one or two dead rats in the ditch a little distance away. That's the reason that there are none in the house. Some one poisoned them all off. And, if you ask me, I should say it was a pretty experienced rat–catcher.'
'Well, but they'd come back,' said the Doctor, 'if this work was done some time ago—as it surely must have been. Other rats would have come to live here even if all the old ones had been killed of. There's no one living in the place now to keep it clear of them.'
Jip came up close to the Doctor and whispered in a mysterious manner. 'I'm not so sure.'
'What do you mean?' asked John Dolittle.
'I'm not so sure there isn't some one living here—right now,' Jip whispered. 'I told you there was something mighty queer about this place. I saw signs around the doors of those outhouses that makes me almost believe that someone is making his home here.'
'Great heavens!' muttered the Doctor. 'This is uncanny. But it someone was living here, even in hiding, you'd have smelled him surely, wouldn't you? Your nose would have led you right to the place where he's concealed.'
'It would,' growled Jip, 'if it wasn't for that blessed old badger. The trails are so crossed and the scents so mixed up no dog could follow a smell there without getting led off it after two or three yards. Wait! Did you hear that sound?'
'No,' said the Doctor. 'Where was it coming from? My goodness, how dark it's getting. The sun has dropped below the hill. I had no idea it was so late.'
'No, I didn't hear any sound,' the Doctor repeated.
'I thought I did,' said Jip—'a sort of fluttering noise. But perhaps I was mistaken.'
'Listen, Jip,' said John Dolittle. 'If what you suspect is true, and there is someone living here, we had better set to work to find him. I don't think it's possible, myself. But your suspicions are so often correct. Now, let's see, what places are there where a man could hide? There's that old attic over your heads; there are the outhouses. And that's about all, isn't it? Oh, what about a cellar? No, there can't be any cellar, because that hole in the floor has earth in it, and if there was a cellar beneath we could see right down into it. No, the attic in the tower and the outhouses are the only places we need bother with. All right? Let's set to work.'
And after the Doctor had explained Jip's suspicions to Steve, they got an old ramshackle ladder and climbed into the attic. Jip stayed below to watch and help should they discover anyone there and Pippinella went along with the Doctor and Steve.
'Hang on tightly to Steve's shoulder, Pippinella,' said the Doctor. 'We mustn't get separated in the dark.'