“You may be sure that we will do our best—for John Dolittle.”
Then they flew off—and Gub-Gub came out from behind his barrel to see them go. Up and up and up they went—higher and higher and higher still. Then, when the Doctor could only just see them, they parted company and started going off all different ways—North, East, South and West, looking like tiny grains of black sand creeping across the wide, blue sky.
“My gracious!” said Gub-Gub in a hushed voice. “What a height! I wonder they don’t scorch their feathers—so near the sun!”
They were gone a long time. And when they came back it was almost night.
And the eagles said to the Doctor,
“We have searched all the seas and all the countries and all the islands and all the cities and all the villages in this half of the world. But we have failed. In the main street of Gibraltar we saw three red hairs lying on a wheelbarrow before a baker’s door. But they were not the hairs of a man—they were the hairs out of a fur-coat. Nowhere, on land or water, could we see any sign of this boy’s uncle. And if we could not see him, then he is not to be seen. … For John Dolittle—we have done our best.”
Then the six great birds flapped their big wings and flew back to their homes in the mountains and the rocks.
“Well,” said Dab-Dab, after they had gone, “what are we going to do now? The boy’s uncle must be found—there’s no two ways about that. The lad isn’t old enough to be knocking around the world by himself. Boys aren’t like ducklings—they have to be taken care of till they’re quite old. … I wish Chee-Chee were here. He would soon find the man. Good old Chee-Chee! I wonder how he’s getting on!”