But after many hours of fruitless search night began to come on and the swallows who were acting as guides could no longer see big distances, for there was no moon.
Poor Zuzana began weeping some more when the Doctor said he would have to give up for the night.
"By morning," said she, "the ship of the wicked slave dealers will be many miles away and I shall never get my husband back. Alas! Alas!"
The Doctor comforted her as best he could, saying that if he failed he would get her another husband, just as good. But she didn't seem to care for that idea and went on wailing, "Alas! Alas!"
"Looking into all the bays"
She made such a noise that the Doctor couldn't get to sleep on the bottom of the canoe—which wasn't very comfortable, anyway. So he had to sit up and listen. Some of the swallows were still with him, sitting on the edge of the canoe. And the famous Skimmer, the leader, was also there. They and the Doctor were talking over what they could do, when suddenly the Skimmer said, "Sh! Look!" and pointed out to the westward over the dark, heaving sea.
Even Zuzana stopped her wailing and turned to look. And there, away out on the dim, black edge of the ocean, they could see a tiny light.
"A ship!" cried the Doctor.
"Yes," said Speedy, "that's a ship, sure enough. I wonder if it's another slave ship."
"Well, if it's a slave ship, it's not the one we're looking for," said the Doctor, "because it's in the wrong direction. The one we're after went northward."
"Listen, Doctor," said Speedy–the–Skimmer, "suppose I fly over to it and see what kind of a ship it is and come back and tell you. Who knows? It might be able to help us."
"All right, Speedy. Thank you," said the Doctor.
So the Skimmer sped off into the darkness toward the tiny light far out to sea, while the Doctor fell to wondering how his own ship was getting on which he had left at anchor some miles down the coast to the southward.
After twenty minutes had gone by John Dolittle began to get worried, because the Skimmer, with his tremendous speed, should have had time to get there and back long ago.
But soon with a flirt of the wings the famous leader made a neat circle in the darkness overhead and dropped, light as a feather, on to the Doctor's knee.
"Well," said John Dolittle, "what kind of a ship was it?"
"It's a big ship," panted the Skimmer, "with tall, high masts and, I should judge, a fast one. But it is coming this way and it is sailing with great care, afraid, I imagine, of shallows and sandbars. It is a very neat ship, smart and new–looking all over. And there are great big guns—cannons—looking out of little doors in her sides. The men on her, too, are all well dressed in smart blue clothes—not like ordinary seamen at all. And on the ship's hull was painted some lettering—her name, I suppose. Of course, I couldn't read it. But I remember what it looked like. Give me your hand and I'll show you."
Then the Skimmer, with one of his claws, began tracing out some letters on the Doctor's palm. Before he had got very far John Dolittle sprang up, nearly overturning the canoe.
"H. M. S.!" he cried. "That means Her Majesty's Ship. It's a man–o'–war—a navy vessel. The very thing we want to deal with slave traders!"
Chapter II
The Doctor's Reception on the Warship
Then the Doctor and Zuzana started to paddle their canoe for all they were worth in the direction of the light. The night was calm, but the long swell of the ocean swung the little canoe up and down like a seesaw and it needed all Zuzana's skill to keep it in a straight line.
After about an hour had gone by the Doctor noticed that the ship they were trying to reach was no longer coming toward them, but seemed to have stopped. And when he finally came up beneath its towering shape in the darkness he saw the reason why—the man–o'–war had run into his own ship, which he had left at anchor with no lights. However, the navy vessel had fortunately been going so carefully that no serious damage, it seemed, had been done to either ship.
Finding a rope ladder hanging on the side of the man–o'–war, John Dolittle climbed up it, with Zuzana, and went aboard to see the Captain.
He found the Captain strutting the quarterdeck, mumbling to himself.
"Good evening," said the Doctor politely. "Nice weather we're having."
The Captain came up to him and shook his fist in his face.
"Are you the owner of that Noah's Ark down there?" he stormed, pointing to the other ship alongside.
"Er—yes—temporarily," said the Doctor. "Why?"
"Well, will you be so good," snarled the Captain, his face all out of shape with rage, "as to tell me what in thunder you mean by leaving your old junk at anchor on a dark night without any lights? What kind of a sailor are you? Here I bring Her Majesty's latest cruiser after Jimmie Bones, the slave trader—been hunting him for weeks, I have—and, as though the beastly coast wasn't difficult enough as it is, I bump into a craft riding at anchor with no lights. Luckily, I was going slow, taking soundings, or we might have gone down with all hands. I hallooed to your ship and got no answer. So I go aboard her, with pistols ready, thinking maybe she's a slaver, trying to play tricks on me. I creep all over the ship, but not a soul do I meet. At last in the cabin I find a pig—asleep in an armchair! Do you usually leave your craft in the charge of a pig, with orders to go to sleep? If you own the ship, why aren't you on her? Where have you been?"
"I was out canoeing with a lady," said the Doctor, and he smiled comfortingly at Zuzana, who was beginning to weep again.
"Canoeing with a lady!" spluttered the Captain. "Well, I'll be―"
"Yes," said the Doctor. "Let me introduce you. This is Zuzana, Captain—er―"
But the Captain interrupted him by calling for a sailor, who stood near.
"I'll teach you to leave Noah's arks at anchor on the high seas for the navy to bump into, my fine deep–sea philanderer! Think the shipping laws are made for a joke? Here," he turned to the sailor, who had come in answer to his call, "Master–at–arms, put this man under arrest."
"Aye, aye, sir," said the master–at–arms. And before the Doctor knew it he had handcuffs fastened firmly on his wrists.
"But this lady was in distress," said the Doctor. "I was in such a hurry I forgot all about lighting the ship. In fact, it wasn't dark yet when I left."
"Take him below!" roared the Captain. "Take him below before I kill him."
And the poor Doctor was dragged away by the Master–at–arms toward a stair leading to the lower decks. But at the head of the stairs he caught hold of the handrail and hung on long enough to shout back to the Captain:
"I could tell you where Jimmie Bones is, if I wanted to."
"'Where have you been?'"
"What's that?" snorted the Captain. "Here, bring him back! What was that you said?"
"I said," murmured the Doctor, getting his handkerchief out and blowing his nose with his handcuffed hands, "that I could tell you where Jimmie Bones is—if I wanted to."
"Jimmie Bones, the slaver?" cried the Captain. "That's the man the government has sent me after. Where is he?"
"My memory doesn't work very well while my hands are tied," said the Doctor quietly, nodding toward the handcuffs. "Possibly if you took these things off I might remember."