Doctor Dolittle's Circus (Musaicum Children's Classics). Hugh Lofting

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      Chapter 6

       Sophie, from Alaska

       Table of Contents

      Sophie’s keeper, like the rest of the showmen, had by this time got his part of the circus in readiness to open to the public. The seal was accustomed to perform in the big tent twice a day, following the Pinto Brothers (trapeze acrobats) and the Talking Horse. But during the rest of the day she was a side-show like the pushmi-pullyu. Here in an enclosed tank she dived after fish for the amusement of anyone who paid threepence to come and see her.

      This morning – it was still quite early – Sophie’s keeper was eating his breakfast outside on the steps when the Doctor entered the stand. Inside, a tank about twelve feet across had been let into the ground; and around it was a platform with a railing where visitors stood to watch the performance. Sophie, a fine five-foot Alaskan seal, with sleek skin and intelligent eyes, was wallowing moodily in the water of the tank. When the Doctor spoke to her in her own language, and she realized who her visitor was, she burst into a flood of tears.

      “What is the matter?” asked John Dolittle.

      The seal, still weeping, did not answer.

      “Calm yourself,” said the Doctor. “Don’t be hysterical. Tell me, are you still sick? I understood you had recovered.”

      “Oh, yes, I got over that,” said Sophie through her tears. “It was only an upset stomach. They will feed us this stale fish, you know.”

      “Then what’s the matter?” asked the Doctor. “Why are you crying?”

      “I was weeping for joy,” said Sophie. “I was just thinking as you came in that the only person in the world who could help me in my trouble was John Dolittle. Of course, I had heard all about you through the Post Office and the Arctic Monthly. In fact, I had written to you. It was I who contributed those articles on under-water swimming – you remember? – The Alaskan Wiggle, you know – double overhand stroke. It was printed in the August number of your magazine. We were awfully sorry when you had to give up the Arctic Monthly. It was tremendously popular among the seals.”

      “But what was this trouble you were speaking of?” asked the Doctor.

      “Oh, yes,” said Sophie, bursting into tears again. “That just shows you how glad I am; I had forgotten all about it for the moment. You know, when you first came in I thought you were an ordinary visitor. But the very first word of sealish that you spoke – and Alaskan sealish at that – I knew who you were; John Dolittle, the one man in the world I wanted to see! It was too much, I—”

      “Come, come!” said the Doctor. “Don’t break down again. Tell me what your trouble is.”

      “Well,” said Sophie, “it’s this: While I—”

      At that moment there was a noise outside, the rattling of a bucket.

      “Sh! It’s the keeper coming,” whispered the Doctor quickly. “Just carry on with your tricks. I’m not letting them know I can talk to the animals.”

      When the keeper entered to swab the floor, Sophie was frisking and diving for an audience of one: a quite little fat man with a battered high hat on the back of his head. The keeper just glanced at him, before setting to work, and decided that he was quite an ordinary person, nobody in particular at all.

      As soon as the man had finished his mopping and disappeared again, Sophie continued:

      “You know,” said the seal, “when I fell sick we were performing at Hatley-on-Sea, and I and my keeper – Higgins is his name – stayed there two weeks while the circus went on without us. Now, there’s a zoo at Hatley – only a small one – near the esplanade. They have artificial ponds there with seals and otters in them. Well, Higgins got talking to the keeper of these seals one day, and told him about my being sick. And they decided I needed company. So they put me in the pond with the other seals till I should recover. Among them there was an older one who came from the same part of the Behring Straits as I did. He gave me some very bad news about my husband. It seems that ever since I was captured he has been unhappy and refused to eat. He used to be leader of the herd. But after I was taken away he had worried and grown thin and finally another seal was elected leader in his place. Now he wasn’t expected to live.” (Quietly Sophie began to weep again.) “I can quite understand it. We were devoted to one another. And although he was so big and strong and no other seal in the herd ever dared to argue with him, without me, well, he was just lost, you know – a mere baby. He relied on me for everything. And now – I don’t know what’s happening to him. It’s just terrible – terrible!”

      “Well, wait a minute,” said the Doctor. “Don’t cry. What do you think ought to be done?”