Part 22

“You must be mistaken, Too-Too. I don’t hear anything.”

“I’m sure of it,” said the owl. “Sh!—There it is again—Don’t you hear that?”

“No, I do not,” said the Doctor. “What kind of a sound is it?”

“I hear the noise of some one putting his hand in his pocket,” said the owl.

“But that makes hardly any sound at all,” said the Doctor. “You couldn’t hear that out here.”

“Pardon me, but I can,” said Too-Too. “I tell you there is some one on the other side of that door putting his hand in his pocket. Almost everything makes some noise—if your ears are only sharp enough to catch it. Bats can hear a mole walking in his tunnel under the earth—and they think they’re good hearers. But we owls can tell you, using only one ear, the color of a kitten from the way it winks in the dark.”

“Well, well!” said the Doctor. “You surprise me. That’s very interesting.... Listen again and tell me what he’s doing now.”

“I’m not sure yet,” said Too-Too, “if it’s a man at all. Maybe it’s a woman. Lift me up and let me listen at the key-hole and I’ll soon tell you.”

So the Doctor lifted the owl up and held him close to the lock of the door.

After a moment Too-Too said,

“Now he’s rubbing his face with his left hand. It is a small hand and a small face. It might be a woman—No. Now he pushes his hair back off his forehead—It’s a man all right.”

“Women sometimes do that,” said the Doctor.

“True,” said the owl. “But when they do, their long hair makes quite a different sound.... Sh! Make that fidgety pig keep still. Now all hold your breath a moment so I can listen well. This is very difficult, what I’m doing now—and the pesky door is so thick! Sh! Everybody quite still—shut your eyes and don’t breathe.”

Too-Too leaned down and listened again very hard and long.

At last he looked up into the Doctor’s face and said,

“The man in there is unhappy. He weeps. He has taken care not to blubber or sniffle, lest we should find out that he is crying. But I heard—quite distinctly—the sound of a tear falling on his sleeve.”

“How do you know it wasn’t a drop of water falling off the ceiling on him?” asked Gub-Gub.

“Pshaw!—Such ignorance!” sniffed Too-Too. “A drop of water falling off the ceiling would have made ten times as much noise!”

“Well,” said the Doctor, “if the poor fellow’s unhappy, we’ve got to get in and see what’s the matter with him. Find me an axe, and I’ll chop the door down.”

THE SEVENTEENTH CHAPTER

THE OCEAN GOSSIPS

RIGHT away an axe was found. And the Doctor soon chopped a hole in the door big enough to clamber through.

At first he could see nothing at all, it was so dark inside. So he struck a match.

The room was quite small; no window; the ceiling, low. For furniture there was only one little stool. All round the room big barrels stood against the walls, fastened at the bottom so they wouldn’t tumble with the rolling of the ship; and above the barrels, pewter jugs of all sizes hung from wooden pegs. There was a strong, winey smell. And in the middle of the floor sat a little boy, about eight years old, crying bitterly.

“I declare, it is the pirates’ rum-room!” said Jip in a whisper.

“Yes. Very rum!” said Gub-Gub. “The smell makes me giddy.”

The little boy seemed rather frightened to find a man standing there before him and all those animals staring in through the hole in the broken door. But as soon as he saw John Dolittle’s face by the light of the match, he stopped crying and got up.

“You aren’t one of the pirates, are you?” he asked.