  “And now I must pass another night here alone on these bare rocks!” he thought. The unhappy marionette began to tremble. He tried to walk, but the night was so dark that it was impossible to see where to go. The tears rolled down his wooden cheeks. He thought of his disobedience and of his stubbornness. He remembered the warnings his father had given him, the advice of his teacher, and the kindly words of the good Fairy. He remembered the promises he had made to be good, obedient, and studious. How happy he had been! He recalled the day when his father’s face beamed with pleasure at his progress. He saw the happy smile with which his protecting Fairy greeted him. His tears fell fast, and sobs rent his heart. “If I should die, here in this gloomy place! If I should die of weariness, of hunger, of fear! To die a marionette without having had the happiness of becoming a real boy!” He wept bitterly, and yet his troubles had scarcely begun. Even while his tears were flowing down his cheeks and into the dark water, he heard prolonged howls. At the same time he saw lights moving to and fro, as if driven by the wind. “What in the world is this? Who is carrying those lanterns?” asked Pinocchio, continuing to sob. As if in answer to his questions, two lights came down the rocky coast and drew nearer to him. Along with the lights came the howls, which sounded like those he had heard at the circus, only more natural and terrible. “I hope this will end well,” the marionette said to himself, “but I have some doubt about it.” He threw himself on the ground and tried to hide between the rocks. A minute later and he felt a warm breath on his face. There stood the shadowy form of a hyena, its open mouth ready to devour the marionette at one gulp. “I am done for!” and Pinocchio shut his eyes and gave a last thought to his dear father and his beloved Fatina. But the beast, after sniffing at him once or twice from head to foot, burst into a loud, howling laugh and walked away. He had no appetite for wooden boys. “May you never return!” said Pinocchio, raising his head a little and straining his eyes to pierce the darkness about him. “Oh, if there were only a tree, or a wall, or anything to climb up on!” Hyenas The marionette was right in wishing for something to keep him far above the ground. During the whole night these visitors were coming and going. They came around him howling, sniffing, laughing, mocking. As each one ran off, Pinocchio would say, “May you never return!” He lay there shivering in the agony of his terror. If the night had continued much longer, the poor fellow would have died of fright. But the dawn came at last. All these strange night visitors disappeared. Pinocchio tried to get up. He could not move. His legs and arms were stiff. A terrible weakness had seized him, and the world swam around him. Hunger overpowered him. The poor marionette felt that he should surely die. “How terrible,” he thought, “to die of hunger! What would I not eat! Dry beans and cherry stems would be delicious.” He looked eagerly around, but there was not even a cricket or a snail in sight. There was nothing, nothing but rocks. Suddenly, however, a faint cry came from his parched throat. Was it possible? A few feet from him there was something between the rocks which looked like food. The marionette did not know what it was. He dragged himself along on hands and knees, and commenced to eat it. His nose wished to have nothing to do with it, and would even have drawn back, but the marionette said; “It is necessary to accustom yourself to all things, my friends. One must have patience. Don’t be afraid; if I find any roses, I promise to gather them for you.” The nose became quiet, the mouth ate, the hunger was satisfied, and when the meal was finished Pinocchio jumped to his feet and shouted joyously; “I have had my first meal in Africa. Now I must begin my search for wealth.” He forgot the night, his father, and Fatina. His only thought was to get farther away from home. What an easy thing life is to a wooden marionette! |
|
