English
Wefoundthewoodsatthefeetofthehillsthickandtanglyandsomewhathardtogetthrough.
OnPolynesia'sadvice,wekeptawayfromallpathsandtrails,feelingitbesttoavoidmeetinganyIndiansforthepresent.
ButsheandChee-Cheeweregoodguidesandsplendidjungle-hunters;andthetwoofthemsettoworkatoncelookingforfoodforus.
Inaveryshortspaceoftimetheyhadfoundquiteanumberofdifferentfruitsandnutswhichmadeexcellenteating,thoughnoneofusknewthenamesofanyofthem.
Wediscoveredanicecleanstreamofgoodwaterwhichcamedownfromthemountains;soweweresuppliedwithsomethingtodrinkaswell.
Wefollowedthestreamuptowardstheheights.
Andpresentlywecametopartswherethewoodswerethinnerandthegroundrockyandsteep.
Herewecouldgetglimpsesofwonderfulviewsallovertheisland,withtheblueseabeyond.
WhilewewereadmiringoneofthesetheDoctorsuddenlysaid,"Sh!—AJabizri!—Don'tyouhearit?"
Welistenedandheard,somewhereintheairaboutus,anextraordinarilymusicalhum-likeabee,butnotjustonenote.Thishumroseandfell,upanddown—almostlikesomeonesinging.
"NootherinsectbuttheJabizribeetlehumslikethat,"saidtheDoctor.
"Iwonderwhereheis—quitenear,bythesound—flyingamongthetreesprobably.Oh,ifIonlyhadmybutterfly-net!
Whydidn'tIthinktostrapthataroundmywaisttoo.
Confoundthestorm:Imaymissthechanceofalifetimenowofgettingtherarestbeetleintheworld—Ohlook!Therehegoes!"
Ahugebeetle,easilythreeincheslongIshouldsay,suddenlyflewbyournoses.TheDoctorgotfrightfullyexcited.
Hetookoffhishattouseasanet,swoopedatthebeetleandcaughtit.
Henearlyfelldownaprecipiceontotherocksbelowinhiswildhurry,butthatdidn'tbotherhimintheleast.
Hekneltdown,chortling,uponthegroundwiththeJabizrisafeunderhishat.
Fromhispockethebroughtoutaglass-toppedbox,andintothisheveryskillfullymadethebeetlewalkfromundertherimofthehat.
Thenheroseup,happyasachild,toexaminehisnewtreasurethroughtheglasslid.
Itcertainlywasamostbeautifulinsect.Itwaspaleblueunderneath;butitsbackwasglossyblackwithhugeredspotsonit.
"Thereisn'tanentymologistinthewholeworldwhowouldn'tgiveallhehastobeinmyshoesto-day,"saidtheDoctor—"Hulloa!
ThisJabizri'sgotsomethingonhisleg—Doesn'tlooklikemud.Iwonderwhatitis."
Hetookthebeetlecarefullyoutoftheboxandhelditbyitsbackinhisfingers,whereitwaveditssixlegsslowlyintheair.Weallcrowdedabouthimpeeringatit.
Rolledaroundthemiddlesectionofitsrightforelegwassomethingthatlookedlikeathindriedleaf.
Itwasboundonveryneatlywithstrongspider-web.
ItwasmarveloustoseehowJohnDolittlewithhisfatheavyfingersundidthatcobwebcordandunrolledtheleaf,whole,withouttearingitorhurtingthepreciousbeetle.TheJabizriheputbackintothebox.
Thenhespreadtheleafoutflatandexaminedit.
Youcanimagineoursurprisewhenwefoundthattheinsideoftheleafwascoveredwithsignsandpictures,drawnsotinythatyoualmostneededamagnifying-glasstotellwhattheywere.
Someofthesignswecouldn'tmakeoutatall;butnearlyallofthepictureswerequiteplain,figuresofmenandmountainsmostly.
Thewholewasdoneinacurioussortofbrownink.
Forseveralmomentstherewasadeadsilencewhileweallstaredattheleaf,fascinatedandmystified.
"Ithinkthisiswritteninblood,"saidtheDoctoratlast."Itturnsthatcolorwhenit'sdry.
Somebodyprickedhisfingertomakethesepictures.
It'sanolddodgewhenyou'reshortofink—buthighlyunsanitary—Whatanextraordinarythingtofindtiedtoabeetle'sleg!
IwishIcouldtalkbeetlelanguage,andfindoutwheretheJabizrigotitfrom."
"Butwhatisit?"Iasked—"Rowsoflittlepicturesandsigns.Whatdoyoumakeofit,Doctor?"
"It'saletter,"hesaid—"apictureletter.
Alltheselittlethingsputtogethermeanamessage—Butwhygiveamessagetoabeetletocarry—andtoaJabizri,therarestbeetleintheworld?—Whatanextraordinarything!"
Thenhefelltomutteringoverthepictures.
"Iwonderwhatitmeans:menwalkingupamountain;menwalkingintoaholeinamountain;amountainfallingdown—it'sagooddrawing,that;menpointingtotheiropenmouths;bars—prison-bars,perhaps;menpraying;menlyingdown—theylookasthoughtheymightbesick;andlastofall,justamountain—apeculiar-shapedmountain."
AllofasuddentheDoctorlookedupsharplyatme,awonderfulsmileofdelightedunderstandingspreadingoverhisface.
"LONGARROW!"hecried,"don'tyousee,Stubbins?—Why,ofcourse!
Onlyanaturalistwouldthinkofdoingathinglikethis:givinghislettertoabeetle—nottoacommonbeetle,buttotherarestofall,onethatothernaturalistswouldtrytocatch—Well,well!LongArrow!—Apicture-letterfromLongArrow.
Forpicturesaretheonlywritingthatheknows."
"Yes,butwhoistheletterto?"Iasked.
"It'stomeverylikely.Mirandahadtoldhim,Iknow,yearsago,thatsomedayImeanttocomehere.
Butifnotforme,thenit'sforanyonewhocaughtthebeetleandreadit.It'salettertotheworld."
"Well,butwhatdoesitsay?Itdoesn'tseemtomethatit'smuchgoodtoyounowyou'vegotit."
"Yes,itis,"hesaid,"because,look,Icanreaditnow.
Firstpicture:menwalkingupamountain—that'sLongArrowandhisparty;mengoingintoaholeinamountain—theyenteracavelookingformedicine-plantsormosses;amountainfallingdown—somehangingrocksmusthaveslippedandtrappedthem,imprisonedtheminthecave.
Andthiswastheonlylivingcreaturethatcouldcarryamessageforthemtotheoutsideworld—abeetle,whocouldBURROWhiswayintotheopenair.
Ofcourseitwasonlyaslimchancethatthebeetlewouldbeevercaughtandtheletterread.
Butitwasachance;andwhenmenareingreatdangertheygrabatanystrawofhope....Allright.
Nowlookatthenextpicture:menpointingtotheiropenmouths—theyarehungry;menpraying—begginganyonewhofindsthislettertocometotheirassistance;menlyingdown—theyaresick,orstarving.
Thisletter,Stubbins,istheirlastcryforhelp."
Hesprangtohisfeetasheended,snatchedoutanote-bookandputtheletterbetweentheleaves.Hishandsweretremblingwithhasteandagitation.
"Comeon!"hecried—"upthemountain—allofyou.There'snotamomenttolose.
Bumpo,bringthewaterandnutswithyou.
Heavenonlyknowshowlongthey'vebeenpiningunderground.
Let'shopeandpraywe'renottoolate!"
"Butwhereareyougoingtolook?"Iasked."Mirandasaidtheislandwasahundredmileslongandthemountainsseemtorunallthewaydownthecentreofit."
"Didn'tyouseethelastpicture?"hesaid,grabbinguphishatfromthegroundandcrammingitonhishead.
"Itwasanoddlyshapedmountain—lookedlikeahawk'shead.
Well,there'swhereheisifhe'sstillalive.
Firstthingforustodo,istogetuponahighpeakandlookaroundtheislandforamountainshapedlikeahawks'head—justtothinkofit!
There'sachanceofmymeetingLongArrow,thesonofGoldenArrow,afterall!—Comeon!Hurry!
Todelaymaymeandeathtothegreatestnaturalisteverborn!"
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