“If these people are such cowards that they run at the sound of my voice, in a few days I shall be master of all Africa. I shall be a great man. However, this is a country of hunger and thirst and fatigue. I must find a place where I can rest a little before I begin my career of conquest.”

Fortune now seemed to favor Pinocchio. Not far off he thought he saw a group of huts at the foot of a hill. He felt that besides getting rest and shelter, he might also find something to eat. Greedy marionette!

As he approached he was struck by the strangeness of these buildings. They looked like little towers topped with domes. He went along wondering what race of people lived in houses built without windows or doors. He saw no one, and he was filled with a sort of fear.

“Shall I go on or not?” he mused. “Perhaps it would be best to call out, Some one will show me where to go for food and shelter.”

“Hello there!” he said in a low voice. No one answered.

“Hello there!” repeated the marionette a little louder. But there was no answer.

“They are deaf, or asleep, or dead!” concluded the marionette, after calling out at the top of his voice again and again.

Then he thought it might be a deserted village, and he entered bravely between the towers. There was no one to be seen. As he stretched out his tired limbs on the ground he murmured. “Since it is useless to think of eating, I may at least rest.” And in a few minutes he was sound asleep.

He dreamed that he was being pulled along by an army of small insects that resembled ants. It seemed to him that he was making every effort to stop them, but he could not succeed. They dragged and rolled him down a slope toward a frightful precipice, over which he must fall. It even seemed as if they had entered his mouth by hundreds, busying themselves in tearing out his tongue. It served him right, too, because his tongue had made many false promises and caused everybody much suffering.

“You will never tell any more lies!” the ants seemed to say.

Pinocchio is covered with ants

Then the marionette awoke with a struggle and a cry of fear. His dream was a reality. He was covered with ants. He brushed them off his face, his arms, his legs,—in short, his whole body. They had tortured him for four or five hours, and only the fact that he was made of very hard wood had saved his life.

“Thanks to my strong constitution.” thought the marionette, “I am as good as new.”