Chapter 18 Doctor Dolittle in the Moon by Hugh Lofting
THE PRESIDENT
The Whispering Vines then went on to tell the Doctor in greater detail of that institution which they had vaguely spoken of already, "The Council." This was apparently a committee or general government made up of members from both the Animal and Vegetable Kingdoms. Its main purpose was to regulate life on the Moon in such a way that there should be no more warfare. For example, if a certain kind of shrub wanted more room for expansion, and the territory it wished to take over was already occupied by, we'll say, bullrushes, it was not allowed to thrust out its neighbour without first submitting the case to the Council. Or if a certain kind of butterfly wished to feed upon the honey of some flower and was interfered with by a species of bee or beetle, again the argument had to be put to the vote of this all-powerful committee before any action could be taken.
This information explained a great deal which had heretofore puzzled us.
"You see, Stubbins," said the Doctor, "the great size of almost all life here, the development of intelligence in plant forms, and much more besides, could not possibly have come about if this regulation had not been in force. Our world could learn a lot from the Moon, Stubbins—the Moon, its own child whom it presumes to despise! We have no balancing or real protection of life. With us it is, and has always been, 'dog eat dog.'"
The Doctor shook his head and gazed off into space to where the globe of our mother Earth glowed dimly. Just so had I often seen the Moon from Puddleby by daylight.
"Yes," he repeated, his manner becoming of a sudden deeply serious, "our world that thinks itself so far advanced has not the wisdom, the foresight, Stubbins, which we have seen here. Fighting, gighting, fighting, always fighting!—So it goes on down there with us.... The 'survival of the fittest'! ... I've spent my whole life trying to help the animal, the so-called lower, forms of life. I don't mean I am complaining. Far from it. I've had a very good time getting in touch with the beasts and winning their friendship. If I had my life over again I'd do just the same thing. But often, so often, I have felt that in the end it was bound to be a losing game. It is this thing here, this Council of Life—of life adjustment—that could have saved the day and brought happiness to all."
"Yes, Doctor," said I, "but listen: compared with our world, they have no animal life here at all, so far as we've seen. Only insets and birds. They've no lions or tigers who have to hunt for deer and wild goats to get a living, have they?"
"True, Stubbins—probably true," said he. "But don't forget that that same warfare of species against species goes on in the Insect Kingdom as well as among the larger carnivora. In another million years from now some scientist may show that the war going on between Man and the House Fly to-day is the most important thing in current history.—And besides, who shall say what kind of a creature the tiger was before he took to a diet of meat?"
John Dolittle then turned back to the vines and asked some further questions. These were mostly about the Council; how it worked; of what it was composed; how often it met, etc. And the answers that they gave filled out a picture which we had already half guessed and half seen of Life on the Moon.
When I come to describe it I find myself wishing that I were a great poet, or at all events a great writer. For this moon-world was indeed a land of wondrous rest. Trees that sang; flowers that could see; butterflies and bees that conversed with one another and with the plants on which they fed, watched over by a parent council that guarded the interests of great and small, strong and weak, alike—the whole community presented a world of peace, goodwill and happiness which no words of mine could convey a fair idea of.
"One thing I don't quite understand," said the Doctor to the vines, "is how you manage about seeding. Don't some of the plants throw down too much seed and bring forth a larger crop than is desirable?"
"That," said the Whispering Vines, "is taken care of by the birds. They have orders to eat up all the seed except a certain quantity for each species of plant."
"Humph!" said the Doctor. "I hope I have not upset things for the Council. I did a little experimental planting myself when I first arrived here. I had brought several kinds of seed with me from the Earth and I wanted to see how they would do in this climate. So far, however, the seeds have not come up at all."
The vines swayed slightly with a rustling sound that might easily have been a titter of amusement.
"You have forgotten, Doctor," said they, "that news travels fast in the Moon. Your gardening experiments were seen and immediately reported to the Council. And after you had gone back to your camp every single seed that you had planted was carefully dug up by long-billed birds and destroyed. The Council is awfully particular about seeds. It has to be. If we got overrun by any plant, weed or shrub, all of our peaceful balance would be upset and goodness knows what might happen. Why, the President—"
The particular vines which were doing the talking were three large ones that hung close by the Doctor's shoulder. In a very sudden and curious manner they had broken off in the middle of what they were saying like a person who had let something slip out in conversation which had been better left unsaid. Instantly a tremendous excitement was visible throughout all the creepers that hung around the gulch. You never saw such swaying, writhing, twisting and agitation. With squawks of alarm a number of brightly coloured birds fluttered out of the curtain of leaves and flew away over the rocky shoulders above our heads.
"What's the matter?—What has happened, Doctor?" I asked as still more birds left the concealment of the creepers and disappeared in the distance.
"I've no idea, Stubbins," said he. "Some one has said a little too much, I fancy. Tell me," he asked, turning to the vines again: "Who is the President?"
"The president of the Council," they replied after a pause.
"Yes, that I understand," said the Doctor. "But what, who, is he?"
For a little there was no answer, while the excitement and agitation broke out with renewed confusion among the long tendrils that draped the rocky alcove. Evidently some warnings and remarks were being exchanged which we were not to understand.
At last the original vines which had acted as spokesmen in the conversation addressed John Dolittle again.
"We are sorry," they said, "but we have our orders. Certain things we have been forbidden to tell you."
"Who forbade you?" asked the Doctor.
But from then on not a single word would they answer. The Doctor made several attempts to get them talking again but without success. Finally we were compelled to give it up and return to camp—which we reached very late.
"I think," said Polynesia, as the Doctor, Chee-Chee and I set about preparing the vegetarian supper, "that we sort of upset Society in the Moon this afternoon. Gracious, I never saw such a land in my life!—And I've seen a few. I suppose that by now every bumble bee and weed on the whole globe is talking about the Whispering Vines and the slip they made in mentioning the President. President! Shiver my timbers! You'd think he were St. Peter himself! What are they making such a mystery about, I'd like to know?"
"We'll probably learn pretty soon now," said the Doctor, cutting into a huge melon-like fruit. "I have a feeling that they won't think it worth while to hold aloof from us much longer.—I hope not anyway."
"Me too," said Chee-Chee. "Frankly, this secrecy is beginning to get under my skin. I'd like to feel assured that we are going to be given a passage back to Puddleby. For a while, anyway, I've had enough of adventure."
"Oh, well, don't worry," said the Doctor. "I still feel convinced that we'll be taken care of. Whoever it was that got us up here did so with some good intention. When I have done what it is that's wanted of me, arrangements will be made for putting us back on the Earth, never fear."
"Humph!" grunted Polynesia, who was cracking nuts on a limb above our heads. "I hope you're right. I'm none too sure, myself—No, none too sure."