One by one, tired and disappointed, we straggled back to the meeting-place. The Doctor seemed gloomy and impatient but by no means inclined to give up.
"Jip," he said, "couldn't you SMELL anything like an Indian anywhere?"
"No," said Jip. "I sniffed at every crack on the mountainside.
But I am afraid my nose will be of no use to you here, Doctor.
The trouble is, the whole air is so saturated with the smell of spider-monkeys that it drowns every other scent--And besides, it's too cold and dry for good smelling."
"It is certainly that," said the Doctor--"and getting colder all the time. I'm afraid the island is still drifting to the southward. Let's hope it stops before long, or we won't be able to get even nuts and fruit to eat-- everything in the island will perish--Chee-Chee, what luck did you have?"
"None, Doctor. I climbed to every peak and pinnacle I could see.
I searched every hollow and cleft. But not one place could I find where men might be hidden."
"And Polynesia," asked the Doctor, "did you see nothing that might put us on the right track?"
"Not a thing, Doctor--But I have a plan."
"Oh good!" cried John Dolittle, full of hope renewed. "What is it? Let's hear it."
"You still have that beetle with you," she asked--" the Biz-biz, or whatever it is you call the wretched insect?"