Doctor Dolittle's Circus

The First Chapter Planning the Escape

Although the plans for Sophie's escape were of course kept a strict secret from any of the people in Blossom's establishment, the animals of the circus soon got to know of them through Jip, Toby and Swizzle. And for days before the flight took place it was the one subject of conversation in the menagerie, in the stables and in the Doctor's caravan.

When John Dolittle returned from telling Blossom that he was about to leave the circus on business for a few days, he found his own animals seated about the table in the wagon talking in whispers.

"Well, Doctor," said Matthew, who was sitting on the steps, "did you speak to the boss?"

"Yes," said the Doctor. "I told him. It's all right. I'm leaving to–night. I felt frightfully guilty, and underhanded. I do wish I could do this openly."

"You'd stand a fat chance of succeeding, if you did!" said Matthew. "I don't feel guilty none."

"Listen, Doctor," said Jip. "All the circus animals are tremendously interested in your scheme. They've asked if there's anything they can do to help. When is Sophie going to get away?"

"The day after to–morrow," said John Dolittle. "Matthew, here, will undo the door of her stand just after closing time. But listen, Matthew: you'll have to be awfully careful no one sees you tinkering with the lock. If we should get caught we would indeed be in a bad fix then. Tinkering with locks makes it a felony instead of a misdemeanor, or something like that. Do be careful, won't you?"

"You can rely on me, Doctor," said the Cat's–Meat–Man, proudly puffing out his chest. "I've got a way of me own with locks, I have. No force, sort of persuasion like."

"Get clear out of the way as soon as you have let her free," said the Doctor, "so you won't be connected with it at all.—Dear me, how like a low–down conspiracy it sounds!"

"Sounds like lots of fun to me," said Matthew.

"To me too," said Jip.

"It'll be the best trick that's been done in this show for a long while," put in Swizzle. "Ladies and Gentlemen: John Dolittle, the world–famous conjurer, will now make a live seal disappear from the stage before your eyes. Abracadabra, Mumble–and–Jabberer, Hoop la—Hey Presto!—Gone."

And Swizzle stood on his hind legs and bowed to an imaginary audience behind the stove.

"Swizzle bowed to an imaginary audience"

"Well," said the Doctor, "even though it sounds underhanded. I don't feel I'm doing anything wrong—myself. They've no right to keep Sophie in this slavery. How would you and I like it," he asked of Matthew, "to be made to dive for fish into a tub of dirty water for the amusement of loafers?"

"Rotten!" said Matthew, "I never did care for fish—nor water, neither. But look here, have you arranged with Sophie where she's to meet you?"

"Yes," said John Dolittle. "As soon as she gets clear of the circus enclosure—and don't forget we are relying on you to leave the back gate open as well as Sophie's own door—as soon as she's out of the fence, she is to cross the road where she will find an empty house. Alongside of that there is a little, dark passage and in that passage I will be waiting for her. My goodness, I do hope everything goes right! It's so dreadfully important for her—and for all those seals in Alaska, too."

"And what are you going to do then," asked Matthew, "when she's got as far as the passage?"

"Well, it's no use trying to plan too far as to detail. My general idea is to make for the Bristol Channel. That's about our shortest cut to the sea from here. Once there, she's all right. But it's nearly a hundred miles as the crow flies; and as we'll have to keep concealed most of the way I'm not expecting an easy journey. However, there's no sense in meeting your troubles half way. I've no doubt we shall get along all right once she's safely away from the circus."

Many of the Doctor's pets wanted to accompany him on his coming adventure. Jip tried especially hard to be taken. But in spite o his great desire to have the assistance of his friends, John Dolittle felt that he would arouse less suspicion if he left his entire family with the circus just as it was.

So that night after a final talk with Sophie he set out alone—on business. He took with him most of what money he had, leaving a little with Matthew to pay for the small needs of his establishment while he was away. His "business" as a matter of fact did not take him further than the next town—which journey he made by a stage coach. In those days, you see, although there were railways, to be sure, they were as yet very scarce. And most of the cross–country traveling between the smaller towns was still done in the old–fashioned way.

On his arrival at the next town he took a room in an inn and remained there the whole time. Two nights later he returned to Ashby after dark and, entering the town from the far side, made his way through unfrequented streets till he reached the passage which was to be his meeting place with Sophie.

Now all his pets, though they had not been given any particular parts to play in the plot of Sophie's escape, were determined to do anything they could to help things on their own account—which, as you will see, turned out to be a good deal. And as they waited for the arrival of the appointed hour their excitement (which Gub–Gub, for one, had hard work to conceal) grew every minute.

"Made his way through unfrequented streets"

About ten o'clock, when the circus was beginning to close up, Too–Too stationed himself on the top of the menagerie where he could see everything that went on. He had arranged with the elephant and the animals of the collection to start a rumpus in the menagerie on a given signal—to attract, if necessary, the attention of the circus men away from the escaping seal. Gub–Gub gave himself the job of watching Blossom, and he took up a post underneath the ringmaster's private caravan.

There was a full moon, and even after the circus lamps were put out there was still a good deal of light. The Doctor would have postponed the escape on this account until later, but he realized that the state of affairs among the Alaskan seals made it necessary for Sophie to get away as soon as possible.

Well, about an hour after Blossom had locked up the fence gates and retired to his caravan, Matthew slipped away from the pushmi–pullyu's stand and sauntered off across the enclosure. Jip, also pretending he was doing nothing in particular, followed him at a short distance. Everyone seemed to be abed and not a soul did Matthew meet till he came to the gate the Doctor had spoken of. Making sure that no one saw him, the Cat's–Meat–Man quickly undid the latch and set the gate ajar. Then he strolled away toward Sophie's stand while Jip remained to watch the gate.

He hadn't been gone more than a minute when along came the circus watchman with a lantern. He closed the gate, and, to Jip's horror, locked it with a key. Jip, still pretending he was just sniffing round the fence after rats, waited till the man had disappeared again. Then raced off toward Sophie's stand to find Matthew.

Now things had not turned out for the Cat's–Meat–Man as easy as he had expected. On approaching the seal's tank house, he had seen from a distance the figure of Higgins sitting on the steps smoking and looking at the moon. Matthew therefore withdrew into the shadow of a tent and waited till the seal's keeper should go away to bed.

Higgins, he knew, slept in a wagon close to Blossom's on the other side of the enclosure. But while he watched and waited, instead of Higgins going away, another figure, the watchman's, came joined the man on the steps, sat down and started chatting. Presently Jip, smelling out Matthew behind the tent, came up and tried frantically to make him understand that the gate he had opened had been closed again and locked.

Jip had very little success in trying to make the Cat's–Meat–Man understand him, and for nearly an hour Matthew stayed in the shadow waiting for the two figures on the steps of Sophie's stand to move away and leave the coast clear for hind to let the seal free. In the mean time John Dolittle in his narrow dark passage outside the circus enclosure wondered what the delay was and tried to read his watch by the dim light of the moon.

Finally Matthew decided that the two men were never going to bed. So, swearing under his breath, he crept away from the shadow of the tent and set off to seek Theodosia, his wife.

On arrival at his own wagon he found her darning socks by the light of the candle.

"Pst!—Theodosia," he whispered through the window. "Listen."

"Good Lord!" gasped Mrs. Mugg dropping her needlework. "What a fright you gave me, Matthew! Is it all right? Has the seal got away?"

"No, it's all wrong. Higgins and the watchman are sitting on the steps talking. I can't get near the door while they're there. Go up and draw 'em off for me, will yer? Tell 'em a tent's blown down or something— anything to get 'em away. They're going to set there all night if something ain't done."

"All right," said Theodosia. "Wait till I get my shawl. I'll bring them over here for some cocoa."

Then the helpful Mrs. Mugg went off and invited Higgins and the watchman to come to her husband's wagon for a little party. Matthew would be along to join them presently, she said.

"His nimble fingers soon had the door unlocked"

As soon as the coast was clear the Cat's–Meat–Man sped up the steps of the seal's stand and in a minute his nimble fingers had the door unlocked. Just inside lay Sophie, all ready to start out upon her long journey. With a grunt of thanks she waddled forth into the moonlight, slid down the steps and set off clumsily towards the gate.

Once more Jip tried his hardest to make Matthew understand that something was wrong. But the Cat's–Meat–Man merely took the dog's signals of distress for joy and marched off to join his wife's cocoa party, feeling that his share of the night's work had been well done.

In the mean time Sophie had waddled her way laboriously to the gate and found it locked.

Jip had then gone all around the fence, trying to find a hole big enough for her to get through. But he wet with no success. Poor Sophie had escaped the captivity of her tank only to find herself still a prisoner within the circus enclosure.

Everything that had happened up to this had been carefully watched by a little round bird perched on the roof of the menagerie. Too–Too, the listener, the night seer, the mathematician, was more than usually wide awake. And presently, while Jip was still nosing round the fence trying to find Sophie a way out, he heard the whir of wings over his head and an owl alighted by his side.

"For heaven's sake, Jip," whispered Too–Too, "keep your head. The game will be up if you don't. You're doing no good by running round like that. Get Sophie into hiding—push her under the flap of a tent or something. Look at her, lying out in the moonlight there, as though this were Greenland! If any one should come along and see her we're lost. Hide her until Matthew sees what has happened to the gate. Hurry—I see some one coming."

As Too–Too flew back to his place on the menagerie roof, Jip rushed off to Sophie and in a few hurried words explained the situation to her.

"Come over here," he said, "Get under the skirt of this tent. So— Gosh! Only just in time! There's the light of a lantern moving. Now lie perfectly still and wait till I come and tell you."

And in his little dark passage beyond the circus fence John Dolittle once more looked at his watch and muttered:

"What can have happened? Will she never come?"

It was not many minutes after Matthew had joined the cocoa party in his own wagon that the watchman rose from the table and said he ought to be getting along on his rounds. The Cat's–Meat–Man, anxious to give Sophie as much time as possible to get away, tried to persuade him to stay.

"Oh, stop and have another cup of cocoa!" said he. "This is a quiet town. Nobody's going to break in. Fill your pipe and let's chat a while."

"No," said the watchman—"thank ye. I'd like to, but I mustn't. Blossom give me strict orders to keep movin' the whole night. If he was to come and not find me on the job I'd catch it hot."

And in spite of everything Matthew could do to keep him, the watchman took his lamp and left.

Higgins, however, remained. And while the Cat's–Meat–Man and his wife talked pleasantly to him of politics and the weather, they expected any moment to hear a shout outside warning the circus that Sophie had escaped.

But the watchman, when he found the stand open and empty, did not begin by shouting. He came running back to Matthew's wagon.

"Higgins," he yelled, "your seal's gone!"

"Gone!" cried Higgins.

"Gone!" said Matthew. "Can't be possible!"

"I tell you she 'as," said the watchman. "Er door's open and she ain't there."

"Good heavens!" cried Higgins springing up. "I could swear I locked the door as usual. But if the gates in the fence was all closed she can't be far away. We can soon find 'er again. Come on!"

And he ran out of the wagon—with Matthew and Theodosia, pretending to be greatly disturbed, close at his heels.

"I'll go take another look at the gates," said the watchman. "I'm sure they're all right. But I'll make double certain anyway."

Then Higgins, Matthew and Theodosia raced off for the seal's stand.

"The door's open, sure enough," said Matthew as they came up to it. "'Ow very peculiar!"

"Let's go inside," said Higgins. "Maybe she's hiding at the bottom of the tank."

Then all three of them went in and by the light of matches peered down into the dark water.

Meanwhile the watchman turned up again.

"The gates are all right," he said—"closed and locked, every one of them."

Then at last Matthew knew something had gone wrong. And while Higgins and the watchman were examining the water with the lamp, he whispered something to his wife, slipped out and ran for the gate, hoping Theodosia would keep the other two at the stand long enough for his purpose.

As a matter of fact she played her part very well, did Mrs. Mugg. Presently Higgins said:

"There ain't nothing under the water. Sophie's not here. Let's go outside and look for her."

Then just as the two men turned to leave Theodosia cried, "What's that?"

"What's what?" said Higgins turning back.

"That—down there," said Mrs. Mugg pointing into the dirty water. "I thought I saw something move. Bring the lantern nearer."

The watchman crouched over the edge of the tank; and Higgins, beside him, screwed up his eyes to see better.

"'Oh! Oh! I'm feeling faint!'"

"I don't see nothing," said the keeper.

"Oh! Oh! I'm feeling faint!" cried Mrs. Mugg. "Help me. I'm going to fall in!"

And Theodosia, a heavy woman, swayed and suddenly crumpled up on the top of the two crouching men.

Then, splash! splash!—in fell, not Theodosia, but Higgins and the watchman—lamp and all.

The Second Chapter "Animals' Night" at the Circus

The white mouse was the only one of the Doctor's pets that witnessed that scene in Sophie's tank–house when Mrs. Mugg pushed the two men into the water by–accident–on–purpose. And for weeks afterward he used to entertain the Dolittle family circle with his description of Mr. Higgins, the seal keeper, diving for fish and coming up for air.

That was one of the busiest and jolliest nights the circus ever had— from the animals' point of view; and the two men falling in the water and yelling for help was the beginning of a grand and noble racket which lasted for a good half hour and finally woke every soul in Ashby out of his sleep.

First of all, Blossom, hearing cries of alarm, came rushing out of his caravan. At the foot of the steps a pig appeared from nowhere, rushed between his legs and brought him down on his nose. Throughout the whole proceedings Gub–Gub never let Blossom get very far without popping out from behind something and upsetting him.

"A small pig tripped him up"

Next Fatima, the snake charmer, ran from her boudoir with a candle in one hand and a hammer in the other. She hadn't gone two steps before a mysterious duck flew over her head and with one sweep of its wing blew the candle out. Fatima ran back, relit the candle and tried again to go to the rescue. But the same thing happened. Dab–Dab kept Fatima almost as busy as Gub–Gub kept Blossom.

Then Mrs. Blossom hastily donning a dressing–gown, appeared upon the scene. She was met by the old horse Beppo, who had a habit of asking people for sugar. She tried to get by him and Beppo made politely to get out of her way. But in doing so he trod on her corns so badly that she went howling back to bed again and did not reappear.

But, although the animals managed by various tricks to keep many people occupied, they could not attend to all the circus folk; and before long the watchman and Higgins, yelling murder in the tank, had attracted a whole lot of tent riggers and other showmen to Sophie's stand.

Now, in the meantime, Matthew Mugg had reopened the gate in the fence. But when he looked around for Sophie she was nowhere to be seen. Jip and Too–Too, as a matter of fact, were the only ones who really knew where she was. Jip, however, with all this crowd of men rushing around the seal's stand near the gate, was afraid to give Sophie the word to leave her hiding place. More of Blossom's men kept arriving and adding to the throng. Several lanterns were lit and brought onto the scene. Everybody was shouting, one half asking what the matter was, the other half telling them. Mr. Blossom, after being thrown down in the mud by Gub–Gub for the sixth time, was hitting every one he met and bellowing like a mad bull. The hubbub and confusion were awful.

At last Higgins, and the watchman were fished out of their bathtub, and highly performed with kerosene and fish, they joined the hunt.

The watchman and every one was sure that Sophie must be somewhere near—which was quite true: the tent, under the skirt of which she was lying, was only thirty feet from her stand. But the gate by which she was to pass out was also quite near.

While Jip was wondering when the men would move away so he could let her go, Higgins cried out that he had found a track in the soft earth. Then a dozen lanterns were brought forward, and the men started to follow the trail that Sophie had left behind on the way to her hiding place.

Luckily, with so many feet crossing and recrossing the same part of the enclosure the flipper marks were not easy to make out. Nevertheless, even with Matthew doing his best to lead them off on a wrong scent, the trackers steadily moved in the right direction— toward the tent where poor Sophie, the devoted wife, lay in hiding with a beating heart.

John Dolittle, waiting impatiently in his little passage, had heard the noise of shouting from the circus. He knew that meant Sophie had got out from her stand. But as minute after minute went by and still she did not come to the meeting place the Doctor's uneasiness increased a hundred–fold.

But his anxiety was no worse than Jip's. Closer and closer the trackers came toward the spot where he had hidden the seal. The poor dog was in despair.

However, he had forgotten Too–Too the mathematician. From his lookout on the menagerie roof, away off on the far side of the enclosure, the little owl was still surveying the battlefield with a general's eye. He was only waiting till he was sure that all the circus folk had left their beds to join the hunt and that there were no more to come. When he played his master stroke of strategy he did not want any extra interference from unexpected quarters.

Suddenly he flew down to a ventilator in the menagerie wall and hooted softly. Instantly there began within the most terrible pandemonium that was ever heard. The lion roared, the opossum shrieked, the yak bellowed, the hyena howled, the elephant trumpeted and stamped his floor into kindling wood. It was the grand climax to the animals' conspiracy.

On the other side of the enclosure the trackers and hunters stood still and listened.

"What in thunder's that?" asked Blossom.

"He stamped his floor into kindling wood"

"Coming from the menagerie, ain't it?" said one of the men. "Sounds like the elephant's broke loose."

"I know," said another: "it's Sophie. She's got into the menagerie and scared the elephant."

"That's it," said Blossom. "Lord, and us huntin' for 'er over here! To the menagerie!" And he grabbed up a lantern and started to run.

"To the menagerie!" yelled the crowd. And in a moment, to Jip's delight, they were all gone, rushing away to the other side of the enclosure.

All but one. Matthew Mugg, hanging back, pretending to do up his shoelace, saw Jip flash across to a small tent and disappear under the skirt.

"Now," said Jip. "Run, Sophie!—Swim! Fly! Anything! Get out of the gate!"

Hopping and flopping, Sophie covered the ground as best she could while Jip yelped to her to hurry and Matthew held the gate open. At last the seal waddled out onto the road and the Cat's–Meat–Man saw her cross it and disappear into the passage alongside the deserted house. He closed the gate again, and stamped out her tracks at the foot of it. Then he leaned against it mopping his brow.

"Holy smoke!" he sighed. "And I told the Doctor I done worse things than help a seal escape! If I ever―—"

A knock sounded on the gate at his back. With shaking hands he opened it once more; and there stood a policeman, his little bull's–eye lantern shining at his belt. Matthew's heart almost stopped beating. He had no love for policemen.

"I ain't done nothing!" he began. "I―—"

"What's all the row about?" asked the constable. "You've got the whole town woke up. Lion broke loose or something?"

Matthew heaved a sigh of relief.

"No," he said. "Just a little trouble with the elephant. Got his leg caught in a rope and pulled a tent over. We 'ave 'im straightened out now. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, it that all?" said the policeman. "Folks was going around asking if the end of the world was come. Good night!"

"Good night, constable!" Matthew closed the gate for the third time ―"And give my love to all the little constables," he added under his breath as he set off for the menagerie.

And so at last John Dolittle, waiting, anxious and impatient, in the dark passage, alongside the empty house, heard to his delight the sound of a peculiar footstep. A flipper–step, it should more properly be called; for the noise of Sophie traveling over a brick slapping the ground with a wet rag and a sack of potatoes being yanked along a floor.

"Is that you, Sophie?" he whispered.

"Yes," said the seal, hitching herself forward to where the Doctor stood.

"Thank goodness! What in the world kept you so long?"

"Oh, there was some mix–up with the gates," said Sophie. "But hadn't we better be getting out of the town? It doesn't seem to me very safe here."

"There's no chance of that for the present," said the Doctor. "The noise they made in the circus has woken everybody. We dare not try and get through the streets now. I just saw a policeman pass across the end of the passage there—luckily for us, just after you popped into it."

"But then what are we going to do?"

"We'll have to stay here for the present. It would be madness to try and run for it now."

"Well, but suppose they come searching in here. We couldn't―—"

At that moment two persons with lanterns stopped at the end of the passage, talked a moment and moved away.

"Quite so," whispered the Doctor. "This isn't safe either. We must find a better place."

Now, on the side o this alleyway there was a high stone wall and on the other a high brick wall. The brick wall enclosed the back garden belonging to the deserted house.

"If we could only get into that old empty house," murmured the Doctor. "We'd be safe to stay there as long as we wished—till this excitement among the townsfolk dies down. Can you think of any way you could get over that wall?"

The seal measured the height with her eye.

"Eight feet," she murmured—"I could do it with a ladder. I've been trained to walk up ladders. I do it in the circus, you know. Perhaps ―—"

"Sh!" whispered the Doctor. "There's the policeman's bull's–eye again. Ah, thank goodness, he's passed on! Listen, there's just a chance I may find an orchard ladder in the garden. Now you wait here, lie flat, and wait till I come back."

Then John Dolittle, a very active man in spite of his round figure, drew back and took a running jump at the wall. His fingers caught the top of it; he hauled himself up, threw one leg over and dropped lightly down into a flower–bed on the other side. At the bottom of the garden he saw in the moonlight what he guessed to be a tool–shed. Slipping up to the door, he opened it and went in.

Inside his groping hands touched and rattled some empty flower pots. But he could find no ladder. He found a grass–mower, a lawn–roller, rakes and tools of every kind, but no ladder. And there seemed little hope of finding one in the dark. So he carefully closed the door, hung his coat over the dirty little cobwebby window, in order that no light should be seen from the outside, and struck a match.

And there, sure enough, hanging against the wall right above his head, was an orchard ladder just the right length. In a moment he had blown out the match, opened the door and was marching down the garden with the ladder on his shoulder.

Standing it in a firm place, he scaled up and sat astride the wall. Next he pulled the ladder up after him, changed it across to the other side and lowered the foot–end into the passage.

Then John Dolittle, perched astride the top of the wall (looking exactly like Humpty Dumpty), whispered down into the dark passage below him:

"Now climb up, Sophie. I'll keep this end steady. And when you reach the top get onto the wall beside me till I change the ladder over to the garden side. Don't get flustered now. Easy does it."

It was a good thing that Sophie was so well trained in balancing. Never in the circus had she performed a better trick than she did that night. It was a feat that even a person might well be proud of. But she knew that her freedom, the happiness of her husband, depended on her steadiness. And, though she was in constant fear that any minute some one might come down the passage and discover them, it gave her a real thrill to turn the tables on her captors by using the skill they had taught her in this last grand performance to escape them.

Firmly, rung by rung, she began hoisting her heavy body upward. The ladder, fortunately, was longer than the height of the wall. Thus the Doctor had been able to set it at an easier, flattish slope, instead of straight upright. With the seal's weight it sagged dangerously; and the Doctor on the wall prayed that it would prove strong enough. Being an orchard ladder, for tree–pruning, it got very narrow at the top. And it was here, where there were hardly room enough for a seal's two front flappers to take hold, that the ticklish part of the feat came in. Then, from this awkward situation Sophie had to shift her clumsy bulk onto the wall, which was no more than twelve inches wide, while the Doctor changed the ladder.

But in the circus Sophie had been trained to balance herself on small spaces, as well as to climb ladders. And after the Doctor had helped her by leaning down and hoisting her up by the slack of her sealskin jacket, she wiggled herself along the top of the wall beside him and kept her balance as easily as though it were nothing at all.

Then, while Sophie gave a fine imitation of a statue in the moonlight, the Doctor hauled the ladder up after her, swung it over—knocking his own high hat off in the process—and lowered it into the garden once more.

Coming down, Sophie did another of her show tricks: she laid herself across the ladder and slid to the bottom. It was quicker than climbing. And it was lucky she did slide. For the Doctor had hardly lowered the ladder to the lawn when they heard voices in the passage they had left. They had only just got into the garden in time.

"Thank goodness for that!" said the Doctor when the sound of footsteps had died away. "A narrow squeak, Sophie! Well, we're safe for the present, anyway. Nobody would dream of looking for you here. Oh, I say, you're lying on the carnations. Come over here onto the gravel. —So. Now, shall we sleep in the tool–shed or the house?"

"He lowered the ladder into the garden"

"This seems good enough to me," said Sophie, wallowing into the long grass of the lawn. "Let's sleep outdoors."

"No, that will never do," said the Doctor. "Look at all the houses around. If we stay in the garden people could see us out of the top windows when daylight came. Let's sleep in the tool–shed. I love the smell of tool–sheds—and then we won't have to break open any doors."

"Nor climb any stairs," said Sophie, humping along toward the shed. "I do hate stairs. Ladders I can manage: but stairs are the mischief."

Inside the tool–shed they found by the dim light of the moon several old sacks and large quantities of bass–grass. Out of these materials they made themselves two quite comfortable beds.

"My, but it's good to be free!" said Sophie, stretching out her great, silky length. "Are you sleepy, Doctor? I couldn't stay awake another moment if you paid me."

"Well, go to sleep then," said the Doctor. "I'm going to take a stroll in the garden before turning in."

The Third Chapter In the Deserted Garden

The Doctor, always fascinated by any kind of a garden, lit his pipe and strolled out of the tool–shed into the moonlight. The neglected appearance of the beds and lawns of this deserted property reminded him of his own beautiful home in Puddleby. There were weeds everywhere. John Dolittle could not abide weeds in flower–beds. He pulled one or two away from the roots of a rose–tree. Further along he found them thicker still, nearly smothering a very fine lavender bush.

"Dear me!" he said, tiptoeing back to the shed for a hoe and a basket. "What a shame to neglect a fine place like this!"

And before long he was weeding away by moonlight like a Trojan— just as though the garden were his own and no danger threatened him within a thousand miles.

"After all," he muttered to himself as he piled the basket high with dandelions, "we are occupying the place—and rent free at that. This is the least I can do for the landlord."

After he had finished the weeding he would have got the mower and cut the lawn—only that he was afraid the noise might wake the neighbors.

And when, a week later, the owner of the property rented the place to his aunt, that good lady entirely puzzled her nephew by writing to congratulate him on the way he had had his garden kept!

The Doctor, going back to bed after a hard night's work, suddenly discovered that he was hungry. Remembering the apple–trees he had noticed behind a wistaria arbor, he turned back. But no fruit could he find. It had all been gathered or taken by marauding boys. Knowing that he would not be able to move about the garden after daylight came, he then started hunting for vegetables. But in this he had no better luck. So, with the prospect of a foodless day before him to–morrow, he finally went to bed.

In the morning the first thing Sophie said when she woke up was:

"My! I've been dreaming about the dear old sea all night. It's given me a wonderful appetite. Is there anything to eat around, Doctor?"

"I'm afraid not," said John Dolittle. "We'll have to go without breakfast—and lunch, too, I fear. I dare not to try to get out of here by daylight. As soon as it gets dark, though, I may be able to go by myself and bring you some kippers or something from a shop. But I hope that late to–night they'll have given up hunting for you and that we can both make for the open country and get on our way to the sea."

Well, Sophie was very brave and made the best of it. But, as the day wore on they both got ravenously hungry. Somewhere near one o'clock in the afternoon, Sophie, suddenly said:

"Sh! Did you hear that?"

"No," said the Doctor, who was looking for onions in a corner of the shed. "What was it?"

"It's a dog barking in the passage—the other side of the garden wall. Come out from under the bench and you'll hear it. Goodness! I do hope they're not hunting me with dogs now. The game's up if they do."

The Doctor crawled out from under a potting table, came to the door and listened. A low, cautious bark reached his ears from over the wall.

"Good Heavens!" he muttered. "That's Jip's voice. I wonder what he wants."

Not far from the shed there was a thick, branchy pear tree standing close to the wall. Making sure no one saw him from the windows of houses overlooking the garden, the Doctor sped across and got behind the tree.

"What is it, Jip?" he called. "Is anything wrong?"

"Let me in," Jip whispered back. "I can't get over the wall."

"How can I?" said the Doctor. "There's no door and I'm afraid the neighbors may see me if I move out in the open."

"Get a rope and tie a basket on the end," whispered Jip. "Then throw it over the wall behind the tree and I'll get in it. When I bark, pull on the rope and haul me up. Hurry! I don't want to be seen around this passage."

Then the Doctor crept back to the tool shed, found a planting line and tied the garden basket on the end of it.

Returning to the cover of the tree, he threw the basket over the wall, but kept the end of the line in his hand.

Presently a bark sounded from the passage and he started hauling in the rope. When the basket reached the top of the wall on the other side Jip's head appeared.

"Keep the rope tight, but tie it to the tree," he whispered. "Then spread your coat out like an apron. I want you to catch some things."

The Doctor did as he was told. And Jip threw down to him the contents of the basket: four ham sandwiches, a bottle of milk, two herrings, a razor, a piece of soap and a newspaper. Then he threw the empty basket onto the lawn.

"Now catch me," said Jip. "Hold your coat real tight. Ready? One, two, three!"

"My goodness!" said the Doctor, as the dog took the flying dive and landed neatly in the coat. "You could perform in the circus yourself."

"I may take it up some day," said Jip carelessly. "Whereabouts in this place have you been living? In the cellar?"

"No. Over there in the tool shed," whispered the Doctor. "Let's slip across quietly and quickly."

A minute later they were safe in the tool shed, Sophie was gulping a herring and the Doctor was chewing hungrily on a ham sandwich.

"You're a marvel, Jip," said he with his mouth full. "But how did you know we were here—and in need of food? Both of us were just starving."

"Well," said Jip, throwing the seal another herring, "after Sophie got out of the gate the excitement still went on inside the circus. Blossom and his men hunted around all night. Then we decided, from the people's heads popping out of the windows, that the town, too, was pretty much disturbed by the rumpus. Too–Too was awfully worried.

"'I do hope,' he kept saying, 'that the Doctor has not tried to get out into the country. He'll surely be caught if he has. The thing for him to do for the present is to hide.'

"The dog took the flying dive"

"So, all night long we sat up expecting any minute to see you and Sophie dragged back into the circus. Well, morning came and still you hadn't been captured—and, as far as I know, nobody suspects that you, Doctor, have had anything to do with it. But the circus folk were still searching even when daylight came, and Too–Too kept fussing and worrying. So I said to him, I said:

"'I'll soon tell you if the Doctor is still in Ashby or not.'

"And I went off on a tour of inspection. It was a damp morning and a good one for smelling. I made a circular trip right round the outside of the town. I knew that if you had left it by any means except flying I could pick up your scent. But nowhere did I cross the Dolittle trail. So I went back to Too–Too and I said:

"'The Doctor hasn't left Ashby yet—unless he went by balloon.'

"'Good,' says he. 'Then he's safe in hiding some place. He's got wits, has the Doctor—in some things. Now, nose him out—and come back and tell me where he is. In the mean time I'll have some food got ready for him. Both he and the seal will be hungry. They've neither of them had a thing probably since noon yesterday, and they'll certainly have to stay where they are till late–to–night.'

"So then I went smelling around inside the town and picked up your incoming trail from where the coach stops. And it led me first, as I expected, by roundabout side streets to the dark passage. But from there, to my surprise, it didn't go on—just stopped dead. Sophie's didn't go on any further either. Well, I knew you couldn't have crept down a rat hole or flown up in the air; and for a couple of minutes I was absolutely fogged. Then, suddenly, I got a whiff of tobacco smoke coming over the wall—I know the brand you smoke —and I was certain you were in the garden. But, if you ask me, I should say that both of you are pretty fine jumpers."

The Doctor laughed as he started on a second sandwich, and even Sophie, wiping her fishy whiskers with the back of her flipper, smiled broadly.

"Sophie smiled"

"We didn't jump the wall, Jip," said John Dolittle. "We used that ladder over there. But how did you get this food here without being seen?"

"It wasn't easy," said Jip, "not by any means. Too–Too and Dab–Dab made up the sandwiches, and we got Sophie's herrings from Higgins' fish pail. The milk was delivered at our wagon by the usual dairyman. Then Too–Too said you'd surely like to see a newspaper—to pass the time—if you had to stay here all day; and I chose The Morning Gazette, which is the one we had often seen you reading. Then the white mouse said not to forget your razor and soap, because you hated to go without shaving. And we put them in. But all this stuff together weighted quite a lot—too much for me to carry in one trip. So I made two, hiding the first load behind an ash barrel in the passage till I could fetch the second. On the first journey I got stopped by an old woman—you see, I had the things rolled up in the newspaper, so they wouldn't look so noticeable. 'Oh, my,' said the old lady, 'look at the nice doggie carrying the newspaper for his master! Come here, clever doggie!'

"Well, I gave the old frump the slip and got away from her all right. And then on the second trip I met some more idiots—dog idiots. They caught the scent of the herrings I was carrying for Sophie and started following me in droves. I ran all round the town trying to get away from them and nearly lost the luggage more than once. Finally I put my package down and fought the whole bunch of them. —No, it wasn't an easy job."

"Goodness!" said the Doctor, finishing his last sandwich and opening the milk. "It's wonderful to have such friends. I'm awfully glad you thought of the razor. I'm getting terribly bristly around the chin. —Oh, but I haven't any water."

"You must use milk," said Jip. "Steady! Don't drink it all. We thought of that, too, you see."

"Humph," said the Doctor setting down the half empty bottle. "That's an idea. I never shaved with milk before. Ought to be splendid for the complexion. You don't drink it, Sophie, do you? No. Oh, well, now we're all fixed up."

And he took off his collar and began to shave.

After he had finished, Jip said:

"Well, I must be leaving, Doctor. I promised them at the caravan I'd come and let them know how everything was going with you as soon as I could. If you don't succeed in getting away to–night I'll be back again the same time to–morrow, with some more grub. The townsfolk have pretty much calmed down. But Higgins and Blossom haven't given up the hunt yet by any means. So you will be careful, won't you? You're all safe and snug here. Better stay two days—or even three more, if necessary, rather than run for it too soon and get caught."

"All right, Jip," said the Doctor. "We'll be careful. Thank you ever so much for coming. Remember me to everyone."

"Me, too," said Sophie.

"And tell Too–Too and the rest we are ever so grateful for their help," the Doctor added as he opened the door of the shed.

Then they slipped across to the pear tree again. And after he had climbed into the branches of it, the Doctor poked Jip, inside the basket, over the wall and let him down on the string into the passage.

Nothing further of excitement happened for some hours. And though, from time to time, they heard the voices of people hunting for them in the passage and the streets around, a pleasant afternoon was spent by the two fugitives, the Doctor reading the paper and Sophie lolling thoughtfully on her bed.

After darkness began to fall John Dolittle could no longer see to read; so he and Sophie took to chattering over plans in low tones.

"Do you think we'll be able to get away to–night, Doctor?" asked Sophie. "Surely, they'll have given up hunting me by then, won't they?"

"I hope so," said the Doctor. "As soon as it's dark I'll go out into the garden and see if I hear anything. I know how anxious you are to be getting along on your trip. But try and be patient."

About half an hour later the Doctor took the ladder, and mounting near the top of the garden wall, he listened long and carefully.

When he came back to Sophie in the tool shed he was shaking his head.

"There are still an awful lot of people moving about in the streets," he said. "But whether they are circus men hunting you, or just ordinary townsfolk walking abroad, I can't make out. We'd better wait a while longer, I think."

"Oh, dear!" sighed Sophie. "Are we never going to get further than this garden? Poor Slushy! I'm so worried."

And she began to weep softly in the darkness of the shed.

After another hour had gone by the Doctor went out again. This time, just as he was about to climb the ladder, he heard Jip was whispering to him on the other side of the wall.

"Doctor, are you there?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Listen! Higgins and the boss have gone off somewhere with a wagon. Blossom just came and told Matthew to take on some extra jobs with the circus because he wouldn't back for a while. Too–Too thinks it's a grand chance for you to make a dash for it and get out of the town. Start in an hour, when the circus is in full swing and the men are all busy. Have you got that?"

"Yes, I heard you. Thank you, Jip. All right. We'll leave in an hour." And the Doctor looked at his watch. "Which way did Blossom go?"

"East—toward Grimbledon. Swizzle followed them out a ways and came back and told us. You make for the West. Turn to the left at the end of this passage and then double to the left again at the next corner. It's a dark by–street and it leads you out onto the Dunwich Road. Once you reach that you'll be all right. There aren't many houses on it and you'll be in the open country in no time. I'm leaving some more sandwiches here in the passage for you. Pick them up on your way out. Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I understand," whispered the Doctor. Then he ran back to the shed with the good news.

Poor Sophie, when she heard they were to leave that night, stood up on her tail and clapped her flippers with joy.

"Now, listen," said the Doctor: "if we meet any one on the street— and we are pretty sure to—you lie down by the wall and pretend you're a sack I'm carrying—that I'm taking a rest, you see. Try and look as much like a sack as you can. Understand?"

"All right," said Sophie, "I'm frightfully excited. See how my flippers are fluttering."

"Well, the Doctor kept an eye on his watch; and long before the hour had passed he and Sophie were waiting at the foot of the ladder ready and impatient.

Finally, after looking at the time once more, the Doctor whispered:

"All right, I think we can start now. Let me go first, so I can steady the ladder for you, the way I did before."

But, alas, for poor Sophie's hopes! Just as the Doctor was half way up, the noise of distant barking, deep–voiced and angry, broke out.

John Dolittle paused on the ladder, frowning. The barking, many dogs baying together, drew nearer.

"What's that?" said Sophie in a tremulous whisper from below. "That's not Jip or any of our dogs."

"No," said the Doctor, climbing down slowly. "There's no mistaking that sound. Sophie, something's gone wrong. That's the baying of bloodhounds—bloodhounds on a scent. And they're coming— this way!"

"John Dolittle paused"

The Fourth Chapter The Leader of the Bloodhounds

Jip, after his last conversation with the Doctor over the garden wall, returned to the caravan and his friends, feeling comfortably sure that now everything would go all right.

He and Too–Too were chatting under the table while Dab–Dab was dusting the furniture, when suddenly in rushed Toby, all out of breath.

"Jip," he cried. "The worst has happened! They've got bloodhounds. That's what Blossom and Higgins went off for. There's a man who raises them, it seems, in the next village. They're bringing 'em here in a wagon—six of 'em. I spotted them just as they entered the town over the toll–bridge. I ran behind and tried to speak to the dogs. But with the rattle of the wagon–wheels they couldn't hear me. If they put those hounds on Sophie's trail she's as good as caught already."

"Confound them!" muttered Jip. "Where are they now, Toby?"

"I don't know. When I left them they were crossing the market place, on their way here at the trot. I raced ahead to let you know as quick as I could."

"All right," said Jip, springing up. "Come with me."

And he dashed out into the night.

"They'll try and pick up the trail from the seal's stand," said Jip as the two dogs ran on together across the enclosure. "Perhaps we can meet them there."

But at the stand there were no bloodhounds.

Jip put his nose to the ground and sniffed just once.

"Drat the luck!" he whispered. "They've been here already and gone off on the trail. Listen, there they are, baying now. Come on! Let's race for the passage. We may be in time yet."

And away he sped like a white arrow toward the gate, while poor little Toby, left far behind, with his flappy ears trailing in the wind, put on his best speed to keep up.

Dashing into the passage, Jip found it simply full of men and dogs and lanterns. Blossom was there, and Higgins and the man who owned the hounds. While the men talked and waved the lamps, the hounds, six great, droopy–jowled beasts, with long ears and bloodshot eyes, sniffed the ground and ran hither and thither about the alley, trying to find where the trail led out. Every once in a while they would lift their noses, open their big mouses and send a deep–voiced howl rolling toward the moon.

By this time other dogs in the neighborhood were answering their back from every backyard. Jip ran into the crowded passage, pretending to join in the hunt for scent. Picking out the biggest bloodhound, who, he guessed, was the leader, he got alongside of him. Then, still keeping his eyes and nose to the ground, he whispered in dog language:

"Get your duffers out of here. This is the Doctor's business —John Dolittle's."

The bloodhound paused and eyed Jip haughtily.

"Who are you, mongrel?" he said. "We've been set to run down a seal. Stop trying to fool us. John Dolittle is away on a voyage."

"He's nothing of the kind," muttered Jip. "He's on the other side of that wall—not six feet away from us. He is trying to get this seal down to the sea, so she can escape these men with the lanterns—if you idiots will only get out of the way."

"I don't believe you," said the leader. "The last I heard of the Doctor he was traveling in Africa. We must do our duty."

"Duffer! Numbskull!" growled Jip, losing his temper entirely. "I'm telling you the truth. For two pins I'd pull your long ears. You must have been asleep in your kennel the last two years. The Doctor's been back in England over a month. He's traveling with the circus now."

But the leader of the bloodhounds, like many highly trained specialists, was (in everything outside his own profession) very obstinate and a bit stupid. He just simply would not believe that the Doctor wasn't still abroad. In all his famous record as a tracker he had never failed to run down his quarry, once he took up a scent. He had a big reputation, and was proud of it. He wasn't going to be misled by every whipper–snapper of a dog who came along with an idle tale—no, not he.

Poor Jip was in despair. He saw that the hounds were now sniffing at the wall over which Sophie had climbed. He knew that these great beasts would never leave this neighborhood while the seal was near and her fishy scent so strong all about. It was only a matter of time before Blossom and Higgins would guess that she was in hiding beyond the wall and would have the old house and garden searched.

While he was still arguing an idea came to Jip. He left the knot of bloodhounds and nosed his way carelessly down to the bottom of the passage. The air was now simply full of barks and yelps from dogs of any kind. Jip threw back his head and pretended to join in the chorus. But the message he shouted was directed over the wall to the Doctor:

"These idiots won't believe me. For heaven's sake tell 'em you're here―Woof! Woof! WOO―—!"

And then still another doggish voice, coming from the garden, added to the general noise of the night. And this is what it barked:

"It is I, John Dolittle. Won't you please go away? Wow! Woof! Wow–ow!"

At the sound of that voice—to Blossom and Higgins no different from any of the other yelps that filled the air—the noses of all six bloodhounds left the ground and twelve long ears cocked up, motionless and listening.

"By ginger!" muttered the leader. "It is he! It's the great man himself."

"What did I tell you?" whispered Jip, shuffling toward him. "Now lead these men off toward the south—out of the town, quick—and don't stop running till morning."

Then the dog trainer saw his prize leader suddenly double round and head out of the passage. To his delight, the others followed his example.

"All right, Mr. Blossom," he yelled, waving his lantern. "They've got the scent again. Come on, follow 'em, follow 'em! They're going fast. Stick to 'em!—Run!"

Tumbling over one another to keep up, the three men hurried after the hounds; and Jip, to help the excitement in the right direction, joined the chase, barking for all he was worth.

"They've turned down the street to the south," shouted the owner. "We'll get your seal now, never fear. Ah, they're good dogs! Once they take the scent they never go wrong. Come on, Mr. Blossom. Don't let 'em get too far away."

And in a flash the little dark passage, which a moment before was full and crowded, was left empty in the moonlight.

Poor Sophie, weeping hysterically on the lawn, with the Doctor trying to comfort her, suddenly saw the figure of an owl pop up onto the garden wall.

"Doctor! Doctor!"

"Yes, Too–Too. What is it?"

"Now's your chance! The whole town's joined the hunt. Get your ladder. Hurry!"

And two minutes later, while the hounds, in full cry, led Blossom and Higgins on a grand steeple–chase over hill and dale to the southward, the Doctor led Sophie quietly out of Ashby by the Dunwich Road, toward the westward and the sea.

Long afterwards, when Sophie's mysterious escape from her circus career had become ancient history, John Dolittle often told his pets that if he had only known at the beginning what kind of a job it was to move a seal secretly over a hundred miles of dry land he doubted very much if he would have had the courage to undertake it.

"A steeplechase over hill and dale"

The second half of his adventures with Sophie, in which none of his own animals took part, came, indeed, to be a favorite tale with the Dolittle fireside circle for many, many years—particularly one chapter. And whenever the animals were feeding in need of a cheerful yarn they always pestered the Doctor to re–tell them the part of his elopement with the seal which Gub–Gub called "the Grantchester Coach." But we are going ahead of our story.

When Sophie and John Dolittle had traveled down the Dunwich Road as far as where the houses of Ashby ended and the fields of the country began, they both heaved a sigh of relief. What they had been most afraid of while still in the streets was being met by a policeman. The Doctor guessed that Higgins had probably applied to the police station and offered a reward for the return of his lost property. If he had, of course, all the town constables would be very much on the look–out for stray seals.

As they now plodded along the road between hedge–rows, the Doctor could tell from Sophie's heavy breathing and very slow pace that even this bit of land travel had already wearied the poor beast. Yet he dared not halt upon the highway.

Spying a copse over in some lonely farming lands to his left, he decided that it would make a good, snug place in which to take a rest. He therefore turned off the road, found a hole in the hedge for Sophie to crawl through and led her along a ditch that ran up toward the copse.

"He found a hole for Sophie to crawl through"

Arriving at the little clump of trees and brambles, they found it excellent cover and crawled in. It was the kind of place where no one would be likely to come in month of Sundays—except perhaps stray sportsmen after rabbits, or children berry–picking.

"Well," said the Doctor, as Sophie flopped down, panting within the protection of dense hawthorns and furze, "so far, so good."

"My!" said Sophie, "but I'm winded. Seals weren't meant for this kind of thing, Doctor. How far do you reckon we've come?"

"About a mile and a half, I should say."

"Good Lord! Is that all? And it's nearly a hundred to the sea! I tell you what I think we ought to do, Doctor; let's make for a river. Rivers always flow to the sea. I can travel in water as fast as a horse can run. But much more of this highroad walking will wear holes in the sole of my stomach. A river's the thing we've got to make for."

"Yes, I think you're right, Sophie. But where to find one? That's the point. If we were anywhere near Puddleby now I could tell you at once. But I don't know a thing about the geography of these parts. I ought to have remembered to bring a map with me. I don't want to be asking people—not yet, anyway. Because I'm still supposed to be miles away from here, attending to business."

"Well, ask some animal, then," said Sophie.

"Of course!" cried the Doctor. "Why didn't I think of that before? Now, what kind of a beast could best give us the information we want?"

"Oh, any sort of water creature will do."

"I know; we'll ask an otter. Otters are about your nearest relatives in England, Sophie. They travel and hunt in fresh water very much the way you do in salt. Now you stay here and take a good rest and I'll go off and find one."

It was about one o'clock in the morning when the Doctor returned to the copse. The noise he made entering woke Sophie out of a sound sleep.

With him he had brought a rather unusual animal. In odd, curving, graceful leaps this creature kept bounding up out of the high bracken that carpeted the copse to get a good look at Sophie. He seemed somewhat afraid of her, but very interested.

"Isn't she large, Doctor!" he whispered. "Did you say she was related to us?"

"In a way, yes. Though, strictly speaking, she is a pinniped, while your people are musteloids."

"Oh, well, I'm glad of it. She is so clumsy. And look, she hasn't any hind legs—just sort of stubby things. Are you sure she won't bite?"

Finally, the otter was persuaded that Sophie was harmless, and, drawing close, he talked pleasantly with this other furred fisherman from foreign parts.

"Now," said the Doctor, "as I have told you, we are anxious to get down to the sea by the quickest and quietest way possible. And Sophie thinks that the best thing is make for some stream."

"Humph!" said the otter. "She's quite right, of course. But you've come to a pretty poor place for waterways. The only reason I stay in this neighborhood is because there are no otter hounds here. I live and do my fishing in a few ponds. They're not much good, but at least I'm not hunted by the packs. There are no decent rivers in these parts—certainly none that she could swim in to the sea."

"Well, where do you recommend us to go, then?" asked the Doctor.

"I really don't know," said the otter. "You see, I travel so little myself. I was born in this district. And my mother always told me that this was the only safe place left in England for otters to live. And so I've stayed here—my whole life."

"Well, could you get us some fish, then?" asked Sophie. "I'm famished."

"Oh, surely," said the otter. "Do you eat carp?"

"I'd eat anything just now," said Sophie.

"All right. Wait a minute till I go down to my pond," said the otter, and he turned around and bounded out of the copse.

In less than ten minutes he was back again with a huge brown carp in his mouth. This Sophie disposed of in a couple of gulps.

"Why don't you ask the wild ducks, Doctor?" said the otter. "They travel no end, following the waterways up and down to the sea, feeding. And they always go by the quietest streams, where they won't meet people. They could tell you."

"Yes, I think you're right," said John Dolittle. "But where can I get hold of any?"

"Oh, that's easy. They're always flying by night. Just go up on a hill some place and listen. When you hear them passing overhead, call 'em."

So, leaving Sophie and her fresh–water cousin chatting quietly in the copse, the Doctor climbed up a ridge till he came to a high field, from where he could see the moonlit sky all around him. And after a minute or two he heard, a long way off, a faint quacking and honking—wild ducks on the wing. Presently, high above his head, he could make out a V–shaped cluster of little dots, heading seaward.

Putting his two hands to his mouth, like a trumpet, he sent a call hurtling upward. The cluster paused, broke up and started flying round in circles, coming downward—cautiously—all the time.

Presently in the copse Sophie and the otter stopped chatting and listened tensely to the sound of approaching footsteps.

Then the figure of John Dolittle stepped into the hiding place, with a lovely green and blue duck tucked comfortably under each arm.

"Well," said the ducks, after the Doctor had explained the situation to them and asked their advice, "the nearest river, big enough to be of any use to a seal, is the Kippet. Unfortunately, there are no brooks or anything leading into it from here. To reach the valley of Kippet River you'll have to cross about forty miles of land."

"Humph!" said the Doctor. "That sounds bad."

"Very bad," sighed Sophie, wearily. "Poor Slushy! Such a time I'm taking to get to him. What kind of land is this which we've got to cross?"

"It varies a good deal," said the ducks. "Some of it's hilly; some of it's flat; part of it standing crops; part of it heath. It's very mixed traveling."

"Dear me!" groaned Sophie.

"Yes," said the ducks, "it would be easier, as far as the river, if you went by road."

"'Yes,' said the ducks"

"But don't you see," said the Doctor, "I'm afraid of being met and stopped? That's why we left the Dunwich Road. There are too many people who've heard of our escape around these parts."

"But," said the ducks, "you wouldn't have to go back onto the Dunwich Road. Listen; if you follow that hedge on westward, it will lead you down onto another road, the old Roman road from Igglesby to Grantchester. Coaches use it, going north and south. You're not likely to meet Ashby folks on that. Well, if you go along that road for about forty miles north you'll come to the Kippet River. The highway crosses it at Talbot's Bridge—just before you enter the town of Grantchester."

"It sounds simple for a good walker," said the Doctor. "But for Sophie it's another matter. Still, I suppose it's the best. Follow the Grantchester Road north as far as Talbot's Bridge, and there take to the river, the Kippet—is that it?"

"That's right," said the ducks. "You can't go wrong, once you reach the road. After you take to the stream you'd better make some more inquiries of other water fowl, because, although the Kippet will lead you to the sea, there are places on it where you must be careful."

"Very good," said the Doctor. "You have been most kind. I thank you."

Then the ducks flew off about their business and John Dolittle looked at his watch.

"It's now two o'clock in the morning," said he. "We have three hours more before daylight comes. Would you prefer, Sophie, to stay here and rest till to–morrow evening, or shall we push on and get as far as we can before dawn?"

"Oh, let's push on," said Sophie.

"All right," said the Doctor, "come along."

While they were making their way along the hedge toward the road, the little otter went off and got Sophie a large meal of fresh fish, to help strengthen her for her hard trip. About a mile below, at the end of a long field, he showed them a hole through another hedge, told them the road was just the other side of it, and bade them farewell.

Crawling through, they came out upon a fine highway that stretched away into the night on either hand, wide and well paved.

With a sigh of resignation from Sophie, they turned to the right and set off northward.

The Fifth Chapter The Passengers From Penchurch

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" said Sophie, after they had traveled for about an hour. This road is just as hard and knobby and scrapy as the other one. How far have we come now?"

"About another mile," said the Doctor.

Sophie began to weep big tears into the white dust of the road.

"Always 'about another mile!' I'm afraid I'm being a dreadful nuisance to you, Doctor."

"Oh, not at all," said John Dolittle. "Don't be downhearted. We'll do it yet. It'll be easy going, once we reach the river."

"Yes, but we are still thirty–nine miles from that," said Sophie. "And I'm so worn out."

The Doctor looked down at her and saw that, indeed, she was in a very exhausted state. There was nothing for it but to halt again.

"Come over here," he said—"off the road—so. Now, lie down in this ditch, where you won't be seen, and take a rest."

Poor Sophie did as she was told, and the Doctor sat down upon a milestone, thinking hard. Although he was doing his best to cheer Sophie along, it was beginning to look, at this rate, as though they could never get as far as the river.

While he was pondering drearily over the difficulties of the situation, Sophie suddenly said:

"What's that noise?"

The Doctor looked up and listened.

"Wagon wheels," he said. "You're quite safe where you are. Just keep still till it passes. You'll never be seen in the ditch."

The rumbling noise drew nearer, and presently, round a bend in the road, a light came in sight. Soon the Doctor could see that it was a closed carriage of some kind. As it drew level with him the driver stopped his horses and called out:

"Are you waiting for the coach?"

"Er—er," the Doctor stammered—"oh, are you the coach?"

"We're one of 'em," said the man.

"Where do you go to?" asked the Doctor.

"We are the local," said the driver; "Penchurch to Anglethorpe. D'yer want to get in?"

While he hesitated over an answer a wild idea came into the Doctor's head.

"Have you got many passengers?" he asked.

"No, only two—man and his wife—and they're asleep. Plenty o' room inside."

The carriage, lit within by a lamp which shone dimly through drawn curtains, had stopped a little beyond the Doctor's milestone. The driver, from where he sat, could see neither Sophie's hiding place, nor the back door of his own coach.

"Are your passengers from these parts?" asked the Doctor, lowering his voice.

"No, we come from Penchurch, I told you. What more would you like to know? If you want to get in, hurry! Can't stay talking all night."

"All right," said the Doctor. "Wait just a second till I get my luggage."

"Want any help?"

"No, no, no! Stay where you are. I can manage."

Then the Doctor slipped behind the end of the coach and opened the door. A man and a woman, with their heads sunk upon their chests, were dozing in the far corner. Leaving the door open, the Doctor ran to the ditch, put his arms around Sophie, and lifted her huge weight bodily in his arms.

"We'll cover part of the ground this way, anyhow," he whispered as he carried her to the coach.

"He carried her to the coach"

"Keep as still and quiet as you can. I'm going to stow you under the seat."

For entering the carriage, whose floor stood high above the level of the road, there were two little iron steps hung below the door sill. As the Doctor looked in the second time the passengers were still apparently sleeping. But in trying to mount the steps with his tremendous burden he stumbled noisily. The woman in the corner woke up and raised her head. The Doctor, Sophie's flippers still clinging about his neck, stared, speechless.

"John!"

It was Sarah.

Mrs. Dingle fainted with a shriek into her husband's arms. The horses bolted. The Doctor lost his balance entirely. And the coach rattled off into the night, leaving him seated in the road, with Sophie on his lap.

"Heigh ho!" he sighed, picking himself up wearily. "Of course, it would be Sarah! It might have been anyone else in the world, but it had to be Sarah. Well, well!"

"But what did you mean to do?" asked Sophie. "You could never have got me under the seat. There wasn't room there to hide a dog."

"Oh, well, I just acted on the spur of the moment," said the Doctor. "I might have got you a few miles on your journey—if I hadn't stumbled and woken Sarah. Bother it! But, you know, Sophie, I think that the coach idea is our best scheme, anyhow. Only we must arrange it a little differently; we must lay our plans with care. In one way it was a good thing it was Sarah. If it had been anyone else who had seen me carrying a seal they might have talked and set people on our track. But Sarah and her husband are ashamed of my being in the circus business and they won't say anything, we may be sure.

"Now, listen: over in the east the sky is growing gray—look. It's no use our trying to get further to–day. So we'll hide you in those woods down there, and then I'll go on alone to the next village and find out a few things."

So they moved along the highway a short distance to where some pleasant woods bordered the road.

Entering the cover of these preserves, they found a nice place for Sophie to lie hidden. Then, when he had made her comfortable, the Doctor set out down the road just as the cocks in the nearby farms began crowing their first greeting to the morning sun.

After a walk of about two miles he came to a village with a pretty little ivy–covered inn, called "The Three Huntsmen." Going in he ordered breakfast. He had not had anything to eat since he had left the deserted garden. A very old waiter served him some bacon and eggs in the tap–room.

As soon as the Doctor had eaten he lit his pipe and began chatting to the waiter. He found out a whole lot of things about the coaches that ran up and down the Grantchester Road—what the different ones were like to look at, at what hour they were to be expected, which of them were usually crowded, and much more.

Then he left the inn and walked down the street till he came to the few shops the village had. One of these was a general clothier's and haberdasher's. The Doctor entered and asked the price of a lady's cloak which was hanging in the window.

"Fifteen shillings and sixpence," said the woman in charge of the shop. "Is your wife tall?"

"My wife?" asked the Doctor, entirely bewildered. "Oh, ah, yes, of course. Well—er—I want it long, anyway. And I'll take a bonnet, too."

"Is she fair or dark?" asked the woman.

"Er—she's sort of medium," said the Doctor.

"There's a nice one here, with red poppies on it," said the woman. "How would she like that?"

"No, that's too showy," said the Doctor.

"Well, they do say them flowery ones is right fashionable up to London just now. How would this do?"

"'How would this do?'"

And the woman brought forward a large, plain, black bonnet. "This is very genteel. I wear this kind myself."

"Yes, I'll take that one," said the Doctor. "And now I want a lady's veil—a heavy one, please."

"Oh, mourning in the family?"

"Er—not exactly. But I want it pretty thick—a traveling veil."

Then the woman added a veil to the Doctor's purchases. And with a large parcel under his arm he presently left the shop. Next, he went to a grocery and bought some dried herrings for Sophie —the only kind of fish he could obtain in the village. And about noon he started back down the road.

"Sophie," said John Dolittle, when he reached the seal's hiding place in the woods, "I have a whole lot of information for you, some food and some clothes."

"Some clothes!" said Sophie. "What would I do with clothes?"

"Wear them," said the Doctor. "You've got to be a lady—for a while, anyhow."

"Great heavens!" grunted Sophie, wiping her whiskers with the back of her flipper. "What for?"

"So as you can travel by coach," said the Doctor.

"But I can't walk upright," cried Sophie, "like a lady."

"I know. But you can sit upright—like a sick lady. You'll have to be a little lame. Any walking there is to be done, I'll carry you."

"But what about my face? It isn't the right shape."

"We'll cover that up with a veil." said the Doctor. "And your hat will disguise the rest of your head. Now, eat this fish I've brought you and then we will rehearse dressing you up. I hear that the Grantchester coach passes by here about eight o'clock—that is, the night one does; and we'll take that, because it's less crowded. Now, it's about a four hours' ride to Talbot's Bridge. During all that time you'll have to sit up on your tail and keep still. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I'll try," said Sophie.

"Perhaps you'll have a chance to lie down for a spell if we have the carriage to ourselves part of the way. Much will depend upon how crowded the coach is. It makes three stops between here and Talbot's Bridge. But being a night coach, I don't suppose it will take on many passengers—if we're lucky. Now, let me try these clothes on you and we'll see how you look."

Then the Doctor dressed up Sophie, the performing seal, like a lady. He seated her on a log, put the bonnet on her head, the veil across her face and the cloak over the rest of her.

"He put the veil across her face"

After he had got her into a human sitting position on the log it was surprising how natural she looked. In the deep hood of the bonnet her long nose was entirely concealed; and with the veil hung over the front of it, her head looked extraordinarily like a woman's.

"You must be careful to keep your whiskers inside," he said. "That's very important. The cloak is quite long, you see—comes right down to the ground—and while you are seated and it's kept closed in the front it will look quite all right in a dim light. You can keep it drawn together with your flippers—so. Now, you look just as though you had your hands folded in your lap— that's the idea, splendid! So long as you can stay that way no one would take you for anything but a lady passenger.—Oh, look out! Don't wiggle your head or the bonnet will fall off. Wait till I tie the ribbons under your chin."

"How am I supposed to breathe?" asked Sophie, blowing out the veil in front like a balloon.

"Don't do that," said the Doctor. "You're not swimming or coming up for air. You'll get used to it after a while."

"I can't keep very steady this way, Doctor. I'm sitting on the back of my spine, you know. It's an awfully hard position for balancing—much worse than walking on a ladder. What if I should slip down on to the floor of the coach?"

"The seat will be wider than this log and more comfortable. Besides, I'll try to get you into a corner and I'll sit close beside you—so you'll be sort of wedged in. If you feel yourself slipping just whisper to me and I'll hitch you up into a safer position. You look splendid—really, you do."

Well, after a little more practice and rehearsing the Doctor felt that Sophie could now pass as a lady passenger. And when evening came it found him by the edge of the road, with a heavily–veiled woman seated at his side, waiting for the Grantchester coach.

The Sixth Chapter The Grantchester Coach

After they had waited about a quarter of an hour, Sophie said:

"I hear wheels, Doctor. And look, there are the lights, far down the road."

"Yes," said John Dolittle. "But it isn't the coach we want. That's the Twinborough Express—a green light and a white light. The one we want has two white lights in front. Step back a little further into the shadow of the hedge. Try not to walk on your cloak. You mustn't get it muddy."

A little while after the Twinborough Express had rattled by, along came another.

"Ah!" said the Doctor. "This is ours, the Grantchester coach. Now sit up by the side of the road here and keep perfectly still till I signal the driver. Then I'll lift you in, and let's hope we find a corner seat empty. Is your bonnet on tight?"

"Yes," said Sophie. "But the veil is tickling my nose most awfully. I do hope I don't sneeze."

"So do I," said the Doctor, remembering the cow–like bellow that seals make when they sneeze.

Then John Dolittle stepped out into the middle of the road and stopped the coach. Inside he found three passengers—two men at the far end and an old lady near the door. To his delight, the corner seat opposite the old lady was empty.

Leaving the door open, he ran back and got Sophie and carried her to the coach. The two men at the far end were talking earnestly together about politics. They took little notice as the lame woman was lifted in and made comfortable in the corner seat. But as the Doctor closed the door, and sat beside his companion he noticed that the old lady opposite was very interested in his invalid.

The coach started off, and the Doctor, after making sure that Sophie's feet were not showing below the long cape, got out a newspaper from his pocket. Although the light from the oil lamp overhead was too dim to read by, he spread out the paper before his face and pretended to be deeply absorbed in it.

Presently the old lady leaned forward and tapped Sophie on the knee.

"Excuse me, my dear," she began in a kindly voice.

"'Excuse me, my dear,' she began"

"Oh, er"—said the Doctor, looking up quickly. "She doesn't talk —er—that is, not any English."

"Has she got far to go?" asked the old lady.

"To Alaska," said the Doctor, forgetting himself—"er—that is, eventually. This journey we're only going to Grantchester."

Wishing people would mind their own business, the Doctor plunged again into his paper as though his life depended on his reading every word.

But the kindly passenger was not easily put off. After a moment she leaned forward once more and tapped the Doctor on the knee.

"Is it rheumatics?" she asked in a whisper, nodding toward Sophie. "I noticed that you had to carry her in, poor dear!"

"Er, not exactly," stammered the Doctor. "Her legs are too short. Can't walk. Can't walk a step. Been that way all her life."

"Dear me!" sighed the old lady. "How sad; how very sad!"

"I'm slipping," whispered Sophie behind her veil. "In a minute I'm going to slide on to the floor."

While the Doctor was putting away his newspaper and getting ready to hitch Sophie up higher, the old lady spoke again;

"What a nice sealskin coat she's wearing!"

Sophie's knee was sticking out through the cloak.

"Yes. She has to be kept warm." said the Doctor, busily wrapping his invalid up. "Most important."

"She'll be your daughter, I suppose?" asked the old lady.

But this time Sophie spoke for herself. A deep roar suddenly shook the carriage. The tickling of the veil had finally made her sneeze. The Doctor was now standing up, but before he could catch her she had slid down on to the floor between his feet.

"She's in pain, poor thing," said the old lady. "Wait till I get out my smelling bottle. She's fainted. I often do it myself, traveling. And this coach does smell something horrible—fishy–like."

Luckily for the Doctor, the old lady then busied herself hunting in her handbag. He was therefore able, while lifting the seal back on to the seat, to place himself in between Sophie and the two men, who were now also showing interest in her.

"Here you are," said the old lady, handing out a silver smelling bottle. "Lift up her veil and hold it under her nose."

"No, thank you," said the Doctor quickly. "All she needs is rest. She's very tired. We'll prop her up snugly in the corner, like this —so. Now let's not talk, and probably she'll soon drop off to sleep."

Well, finally the poor Doctor got the little old lady to mind her own business and keep quiet. And for about an hour and a half the coach continued on its way without anything further happening. But it was quite clear that the men at the other end were puzzled and curious about his invalid. They kept glancing in her direction and talking together in whispers in a way that made him very uneasy.

Presently the coach stopped at a village to change horses. The driver appeared at the door and told the passengers that if they wished to have supper at the inn (in whose yard they had halted) they had half an hour to do so before they went on.

The two men left the coach, eyeing Sophie and the Doctor as they passed on their way out; and soon the old lady followed their example. The driver had now also disappeared and John Dolittle and his companion had the coach to themselves.

"Listen, Sophie," the Doctor whispered. "I'm getting uneasy about those two men. I'm afraid they suspect that you are not what you pretend to be. You stay here now, while I go in and find out if they're traveling any further with us."

Then he strolled into the inn. In the passage he met a serving maid and asked the way to the dining room. She showed him an open door with a screen before it a little way down the passage.

"Supper will be served in a minute," she said. "Just walk in and sit down."

"Thank you," said the Doctor. "By the way, do you happen to know who those two men were who came in off the coach just now?"

"Yes, sir," said the maid. "One of them's the County Constable and the other's Mr. Tuttle, the Mayor of Penchurch."

"Thank you," said the Doctor, and passed on.

Reaching the screen door, he hesitated a moment before entering the dining room. And presently, he heard the voices of the two men seated at a table within on the other side of the screen.

"He heard the voices of two men at a table within"

"I tell you," said one in a low tone, there' not the least doubt. They're highwaymen, as sure as you're alive. It's an old trick, disguising as a woman. Did you notice the thick veil? As likely as not it's that rogue, Robert Finch himself. He robbed the Twinborough Express only last month."

"I shouldn't wonder," said the other. "And the short, thick villain will be Joe Gresham, his partner. Now, I'll tell you what we'll do —after supper let's go back and take our seats as though we suspected nothing. Their plan, no doubt, is to wait till the coach is full and has reached a lonely part of the road. Then they'll hold up the passengers—money or your life!—and get away before the alarm can be raised. Have you got your traveling pistols?"

"Yes."

"All right, give me one. Now, when I nudge you—you tear off the man's veil and hold a pistol to his head. I'll take care of the shorter one. Then we'll turn the coach about, drive back and lodge them in the village jail. Understand?"

While the Doctor was still listening the maid came down the passage again with a tray full of dishes, and touched him on the back.

"Go in, sir," she said, "and sit down. I'm just going to serve supper."

"No, thank you," said the Doctor. "I'm not really hungry. I think I'll go out into the air again."

Luckily, on reaching the yard, he found it deserted. The horses had been taken out of the shafts and put into the stable. The new ones had not yet been hitched up to the coach. The Doctor sped across the yard and opened the door.

"Sophie," he whispered, "come out of that. They think we're highwaymen in disguise. Let's get away—quick—while the coast is clear."

Hoisting the seal's huge weight in his arms, the Doctor staggered out of the yard with her. On account of the lateness of the hour there was no one in the road. All was still and quiet but for the rattle of dishes from the inn kitchen and the noise of watching from the stables.

"Now," said he, putting her down, "we haven't far to go. See, this place is the last in the village. Once we reach those fields and get beyond the hedge we should be all right. I'll go ahead and find a place to get through, and you follow along as quick as you can. Give me your cloak and bonnet—that's it. Now you can travel better."

A few minutes later they were safe behind a high hedge, resting in the long grass of a meadow.

"My!" sighed Sophie, stretching herself out. "It's good to be rid of that wretched cloak and veil. I don't like being a lady a bit."

"That was a narrow escape." said the Doctor. "It's a good thing I went in and overheard those men talking. If we had gone on with them in the coach we'd have been caught for sure."

"Aren't you afraid they'll come hunting for us?" asked Sophie.

"Oh, maybe. But they'll never look for us here. They take us for highwaymen, you see. And by the time they discover our escape they'll probably think we've gone miles. We'll wait here till the coach passes and then we needn't worry."

"Well," said Sophie, "even if we are safe it doesn't seem to me we are much better off than we were before."

"But we're this much farther on our way," said the Doctor. "Have patience. We'll do it yet."

"How far have we come now?" asked Sophie.

"That village was Shottlake," said the Doctor. "We've only got eighteen miles more to do to reach Talbot's Bridge."

"Well, but how are we going to travel? I can't walk it, Doctor; I simply can't—not eighteen miles."

"S–h–h! Don't speak so loud," whispered John Dolittle. "They may be snooping around somewhere, looking for us. We'll find a way—don't worry. And, once we reach the river, the worst will be over. We must first wait till the coach goes by, though, before we can stir."

"Poor Slushy!" murmured the Sophie, looking up at the moon. "I wonder how he's getting on … will you try to take another coach, Doctor?"

"No. I think we'd better not. They may leave word at the inn and drivers will be on the lookout for a woman of your description."

"Well, I hope they don't find us here," said Sophie. "It doesn't seem to me we're very well concealed. Good heavens! Listen— a footstep!"

The place where they lay was the corner of a pasture field. Besides the hedge which hid them from the road there was another, on their right, dividing their field from the next. Behind this they now heard a heavy footstep passing up and down.

"Keep still, Sophie!" whispered the Doctor. "Don't move an inch."

Presently the top branches of the hedge began to sway and the crackling of twigs reached their ears.

"Doctor," said Sophie in a frightened whisper, "they've discovered us. There's some one trying to get through the hedge!"

For a moment or two the Doctor was undecided whether to keep still or to run for it. He thought at first that if it was some one out looking for them he might not know exactly where they were, anyway, and would, perhaps, if they kept quiet, go to some other part of the hedge easier to pass through.

But the crackling of branches grew louder—only a few feet away from them. Whoever it was, he seemed determined to enter the field at that place. So, with a whispered word to Sophie, the Doctor sprang up and started off, running across the meadow, with the poor seal flopping along at his side.

On and on they went. Behind them they heard a crash as the hedge gave away, and then heavy footsteps beating the ground in pursuit.

From the sound the pursuer, whoever he was, was gaining on them. And presently the Doctor, fearing that as highwaymen they might be fired upon without warning, turned to look back.

And there, lumbering along behind them, was an old, old plow horse!

"It's all right, Sophie," panted the Doctor halting. "It isn't a man at all. We've had our run for nothing.—Good lord, but I'm blown!"

The horse, seeing them stop, slowed down to a walk, and came ambling toward them in the moonlight. He seemed very decrepit and feeble; and when he came up Sophie saw with great astonishment that he was wearing spectacles.

"Heavens!" cried the Doctor. "It's my old friend from Puddleby. Why didn't you call to me, instead of chasing us across country? We expected you to shoot us in the back any minute."

"Is that John Dolittle's voice I hear?" asked the old horse, peering close into the Doctor's face.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "Can't you see me?"

"Only very mistily," said the plow horse. "My sight's been getting awful bad the last few months. I saw fine for quite a while after you gave me the spectacles. Then I got sold to another farmer, and I left Puddleby to come here. One day I fell on my nose while plowing, and after I got up my spectacles didn't seem to work right at all. I've been almost blind ever since."

"Let me take your glasses off and look at them," said the Doctor. "Perhaps you need your prescription changed."

Then John Dolittle took the spectacles off the old horse and, holding them up to the moon, peered through them, turning them this way and that.

"Why, good gracious!" he cried. "You've got the lenses all twisted. No wonder you couldn't see! That right glass I gave you is quite a strong one. Most important to have them in proper adjustment. I'll soon set them right for you."

"I did take them to the blacksmith who does my shoes," said the old horse, as the Doctor started screwing the glasses around in the frames. "But he only hammered the rims and made them worse then ever. Since I was brought to Shottlake I couldn't come to you about them and, of course, our local vet doesn't understand horse's glasses."

"There, now," said the Doctor, putting the spectacles back on his old friend's nose. "I've fixed them tight, so they can't turn. I think you'll find them all right now."

"John Dolittle peered through them"

"Oh, my, yes," said the old horse, a broad smile spreading over his face as he looked through them. "I can see you as plain as day. Goodness! How natural you look—big nose, high hat and all! The sight of you does me good. Why, I can see the blades of grass by moonlight! You've no idea what an inconvenience it is to be shortsighted, if you're a horse. You spend most of your grazing time spitting out the wild garlic that you chew by accident … . My, oh, my! You're the only animal doctor there ever was!"