“You have forgotten, Doctor,” said they, “that news travels fast in the Moon. Your gardening experiments were seen and immediately reported to the Council. And after you had gone back to your camp every single seed that you had planted was carefully dug up by long-billed birds and destroyed. The Council is awfully particular about seeds. It has to be. If we got overrun by any plant, weed or shrub all of our peaceful balance would be upset and goodness knows what might happen. Why, the President—”
The particular vines which were doing the talking were three large ones that hung close by the Doctor’s shoulder. In a very sudden and curious manner they had broken off in the middle of what they were saying like a person who had let something slip out in conversation which had been better left unsaid. Instantly a tremendous excitement was visible throughout all the creepers that hung around the gulch. You never saw such swaying, writhing, twisting and agitation. With squawks of alarm a number of brightly colored birds fluttered out of the curtain of leaves and flew away over the rocky shoulders above our heads.
“Every single seed was carefully dug up by long-billed birds”
“What’s the matter?—What has happened, Doctor?” I asked as still more birds left the concealment of the creepers and disappeared in the distance.
“I’ve no idea, Stubbins,” said he. “Some one has said a little too much, I fancy. Tell me,” he asked turning to the vines again: “Who is the President?”
“The President of the Council,” they replied after a pause.
“Yes, that I understand,” said the Doctor. “But what, who, is he?”
For a little there was no answer, while the excitement and agitation broke out with renewed confusion among the long tendrils that draped the rocky alcove. Evidently some warnings and remarks were being exchanged which we were not to understand.
At last the original vines which had acted as spokesmen in the conversation addressed John Dolittle again.