To our great surprise we found that not only we, but the whole village also, had been up all night. A great crowd was gathered about the dead chief’s house. And as we landed our canoes upon the beach we saw a large number of old men, the seniors of the tribe, coming out at the main door. We inquired what was the meaning of all this; and were told that the election of a new chief had been going on all through the whole night. Bumpo asked the name of the new chief; but this, it seemed, had not yet been given out. It would be announced at mid-day. As soon as the Doctor had paid a visit to Long Arrow and seen that he was doing nicely, we proceeded to our own house at the far end of the village. Here we ate some breakfast and then lay down to take a good rest. Rest, indeed, we needed; for life had been strenuous and busy for us ever since we had landed on the island. And it wasn’t many minutes after our weary heads struck the pillows that the whole crew of us were sound asleep. _THE NINTH CHAPTER_ THE ELECTION WE were awakened by music. The glaring noonday sunlight was streaming in at our door, outside of which some kind of a band appeared to be playing. We got up and looked out. Our house was surrounded by the whole population of Popsipetel. We were used to having quite a number of curious and admiring Indians waiting at our door at all hours; but this was quite different. The vast crowd was dressed in its best clothes. Bright beads, gawdy feathers and gay blankets gave cheerful color to the scene. Every one seemed in very good humor, singing or playing on musical instruments—mostly painted wooden whistles or drums made from skins. We found Polynesia—who while we slept had arrived back from Bag-jagderag—sitting on our door-post watching the show. We asked her what all the holiday-making was about. “The result of the election has just been announced,” said she. “The name of the new chief was given out at noon.” “And who is the new chief?” asked the Doctor. “You are,” said Polynesia quietly. “_I!_” gasped the Doctor—“Well, of all things!” “Yes,” said she. “You’re the one—And what’s more, they’ve changed your surname for you. They didn’t think that Dolittle was a proper or respectful name for a man who had done so much. So you are now to be known as Jong Thinkalot. How do you like it?” “But I don’t _want_ to be a chief,” said the Doctor in an irritable voice.