Doctor Dolittle in the Moon

11 We Prepare to Circle the Moon

We went to a lot of trouble working out how we could best place these fires so that they should give us the most satisfactory results. First of all we decided with much care on the exact position where we would build them. Mostly they were on bare knolls or shoulders, where they couldn't spread to the underbrush and start a bush–fire. Then came the question of fuel:—What would be the best wood to build them of?

"Mostly they were on bare knolls"

There were practically no dead trees, as I have said. The only thing to do then was to cut some timber down and let it dry.

This we proceeded to do but did not get very far with it before the Doctor suddenly had qualms of conscience. Trees that could talk could, one would suppose, also feel. The thought was dreadful. We hadn't even the courage to ask the trees about it—yet. So we fell back upon gathering fallen twigs and small branches. This made the work heavier still because, of course, we needed a great deal of fuel to have fires big enough to see and smell for any distance.

After a good deal of discussion we decided that this was a thing which couldn't be hurried. A great deal depended on its success. It was a nuisance, truly, but we had just got to be patient. So we went back into the jungle–lands and set to work on getting out various samples of woods to try.

It took a longish time, for the Doctor and myself were the only ones who could do this work. Chee–Chee tried to help by gathering twigs; but the material we most needed was wood large enough to last a fair time.

Well, we harvested several different kinds. Some wouldn't burn at all when we tried them. Others, we found, were pretty fair burners, but not smoky enough.

With about the fifth kind of wood, I think it was that we tested out, we nearly had a serious accident. Fire seemed to be (outside of the traces we had found of the smoke signal apparatus) a thing quite unusual in the Moon. There were no traces of forest burnings anywhere, so far as we had explored. It was therefore with a good deal of fear and caution that we struck matches to test out our fuel.

About dusk one evening the Doctor set a match to a sort of fern wood (something like a bamboo) and he narrowly escaped a bad burning. The stuff flared up like gunpowder.

We took him off, Chee–Chee and I, and examined him. We found he had suffered no serious injuries, though he had had a very close shave. His hands were somewhat blistered and he told us what to get out of the little black bag to relieve the inflammation.

We had all noticed that as the wood flared up it sent off dense masses of white smoke. And for hours after the explosion clouds of heavy fumes were still rolling round the hills near us.

When we had the Doctor patched up he told us he was sure that we had stumbled by accident on the fuel that had been used for making the smoke signals we had seen from Puddleby.

"But my goodness, Doctor," said I, "what an immense bonfire it must have been to be visible all that distance!—Thousands of tons of the stuff, surely, must have been piled together to make a smudge which could be seen that far."

"And who could have made it?" put in Chee–Chee.

For a moment there was silence. Then Polynesia spoke the thought that was in my mind—and I imagine in the Doctor's too.

"The man who made those torches," said she quietly, "could move an awful lot of timber in one day, I'll warrant."

"You mean you think it was he who sent the signals?" asked Chee–Chee, his funny little eyes staring wide open with astonishment.

"'You mean you think it was he who sent the signals?'"

"Why not?" said Polynesia. Then she lapsed into silent contemplation and no further questioning from Chee–Chee could get a word out of her.

"Well," said the monkey at last, "if he did send it that would look as though he were responsible for the whole thing. It must have been he who sent the moth down to us—who needed the Doctor's assistance and presence here."

He looked towards John Dolittle for an answer to this suggestion. But the Doctor, like Polynesia, didn't seem to have anything to say.

Well, in spite of our little mishap, our wood tests with smoke were extremely successful. We found that the wind as a direction–pointer could certainly be relied on for three or four days at a time.

"Of course, Stubbins," said the Doctor, "we will have to test again before we set off on our round trip. It may be that the breeze, while blowing in one prevailing direction now, may change after a week or so. Also we will have to watch it that the mountain ranges don't deflect the wind's course and so lead us astray. But from what we have seen so far, I feel pretty sure that we have here something to take the place of the compass."

I made one or two attempts later, when Polynesia and Chee–Chee were out of earshot, to discover what John Dolittle thought about this idea that it had really been the Moon Man who had brought us here and not the Animal Kingdom. I felt that possibly he might talk more freely to me alone on the subject than he had been willing to with all of us listening. But he was strangely untalkative.

"I don't know, Stubbins," said he, frowning, "I really don't know. To tell the truth, my mind is not occupied with that problem now—at all events, not as a matter for immediate decision. This field of the lunar Vegetable Kingdom is something that could take up the attention of a hundred naturalists for a year or two. I feel we have only scratched the surface. As we go forward into the unknown areas of the Moon's further side we are liable to make discoveries of—well, er—who can tell? When the Moon Man and the Animal Kingdom make up their minds that they want to get in touch with us, I suppose we shall hear from them. In the meantime we have our work to do—more than we can do…. Gracious, I wish I had a whole staff with me!—Surveyors, cartographers, geologists and the rest. Think of it! Here we are, messing our way along across a new world—and we don't even know where we are! I think I have a vague idea of the line we have followed. And I've tried to keep a sort of chart of our march. But I should be making maps, Stubbins, real maps, showing all the peaks, valleys, streams, lakes, plateaux and everything.—Dear, dear! Well, we must do the best we can."

"'I don't know, Stubbins', said he, frowning"