The Adventures of Pinocchio (1904)/Chapter 34
When the donkey had been under water about an hour, the buyer, talking to himself, said: “Now my nice-looking lame donkey ought to be dead by this time. I will pull him up and then set to work to make a drum.” And he began to pull the rope with which he had bound the donkey. He pulled and pulled and pulled, until he saw coming out of the water—what do you think? Instead of a dead donkey he saw a marionette, alive and kicking, struggling and twisting like an eel.
Seeing that wooden marionette, the buyer thought that he was dreaming; and he stood there astonished, with his mouth open and his eyes nearly out of his head. When he found words he said, “Where is the little donkey that I threw overboard?”
“I am that little donkey,” replied the marionette, laughing.
“You?”
“I.”
“Ah! You cheat! Do you think that you can make fun of me?”
“Make fun of you? On the contrary, I speak to you seriously.”
“But how is it that a little while ago you were a donkey and now, after you have been in the water for an hour, you are a wooden marionette?”
“It is the effect of the sea water. The sea never tells its secrets, and this is one of its little tricks.”
“Take care, marionette, take care! Do not think that you can pull wool over my eyes. Woe to you if I lose my patience!”
“Very well. Do you wish to know the true story? Untie my legs and I will tell you.”
The buyer, curious to know the true story, untied the knots that bound the marionette; and then Pinocchio, finding himself as free as a bird in the air, said: “Know, then, that I was at first a wooden marionette as I am to-day. But I was on the point of becoming a boy, just like other boys, when I listened to the advice of a bad companion, and one morning I awoke and found myself turned into a donkey with big ears and a beautiful tail. What shame I felt when I saw that I had a tail! I was then led to a square where a master bought me and taught me to do tricks and dance. One night, when I was performing, I fell and sprained my leg so badly that I could hardly stand on it. Then the master, who did not know what to do with a lame donkey, sold me to you.”
“Yes; I paid twenty-five cents for you. But who will give me my money back?”
“Yes; you bought me and planned to beat me by placing my skin over a drum.”
“Where shall I find another skin?”
“There are lots of donkeys left for that.”
“Tell me, impertinent scoundrel, is your story finished?”
“No,” replied the marionette; “there are a few more words, and then I shall be through. After you bought me you led me here to kill me; but then, being a humane man, you decided to drown me. This delicate attention on your part is most honorable and I shall always remember your goodness. You would have succeeded if it had not been for the good Fairy.”
“Who is the Fairy?”
“She is my mamma, who is like all other mammas in this world. She liked me and tried to make me a good and studious boy. As soon as the good Fairy saw me in danger of drowning she sent a school of fishes, which, believing that I was really dead, began to eat me. And what mouthfuls they took! Some ate my ears; some my neck and mane; some the skin on my legs; some the hair on my back; and among them there was one big fish that ate my tail at one bite. When the fish had eaten everything they finally came to the bones,—or rather, they came to the wood. Finding that too hard for their teeth, they went away and did not even look back to say good-by.”
“I do not believe your silly story,” said the buyer, now very angry. “I know I have spent twenty-five cents and I want my money again. Do you know what I will do? I will carry you back to the square and sell you for a piece of kindling wood.”
“All right!” said Pinocchio. Thus saying, he jumped into the water and, swimming lightly, drew away from the coast, calling to the poor buyer: “Good-by, dear sir! If you want a drumhead, don’t forget me.” And then he laughed and kept on swimming.
After a little time he turned around and shouted: “Good-by, dear sir! If you want a piece of kindling wood, don’t forget me.”
Almost in the twinkling of an eye he was so far away that he could hardly be seen; that is, one could see only a little black point on the water, splashing around just like a jolly dolphin.
Meanwhile, as Pinocchio swam around, he saw not very far away a rock which looked like white marble. On the top of the rock there was a beautiful Goat that bleated and made a sign to him to come nearer. The most singular thing about this goat was the color of its wool. It was not white or black or any color that other goats have. It was blue, just like the hair of the beautiful Baby.
I will leave you to imagine how the heart of Pinocchio began to beat. He redoubled his efforts to reach the rock. Already he was halfway there when he saw coming out of the water the horrible head of a sea monster, with mouth opened wide like an abyss and three rows of teeth that would frighten you, even to see them painted in a picture book.
Can you guess who that monster was? It was no other than the huge Dogfish described several times in this story. On account of his destructive and bloodthirsty nature he was called “The Attila of fishes and fishermen.”
Imagine the fright of poor Pinocchio at the sight of the monster! He sought to avoid him,—to change his road. He tried to escape; but that immense open mouth came always toward him with the velocity of an arrow.
“Hurry, Pinocchio!” cried the Goat, bleating loudly. And Pinocchio swam desperately with his arms, with his chest, with his legs, and with his feet.
“Hurry, Pinocchio, for the monster approaches you!” And Pinocchio, gathering his force, redoubled his strokes.
“Take care! take care! He is gaining! Hurry! Oh, hurry, or you are lost!” Pinocchio swam faster than ever, and away they both raced, going as fast as bullet balls. As they approached the rock the Goat held out its two front paws to aid Pinocchio to land. But—
It was too late! The monster had been too quick. Drawing in a quantity of water, he drank Pinocchio just as if he were sucking an egg. He swallowed him with such violence that the marionette arrived at the stomach of the Dogfish with such force that he was stunned for a quarter of an hour.
When he regained consciousness after being swallowed he did not know where he was. All around him was darkness so intense that he thought he had put his head into the top of an ink bottle. He listened but he heard nothing. From time to time he felt a great gust of wind striking his face. At first he did not know whence that wind came, but afterward he thought it was from the lungs of the monster; for you must know, my little readers, that the Dogfish was a great sufferer from asthma, and when he breathed it sounded like the north wind.
At first Pinocchio tried to be brave; but when he had tried and then tried again to find an exit and found himself still inclosed in the body of the monster, he began to cry and to scream: “Help! help! Oh, dear me! Is there no one who can save me?”
“Who wishes to be saved?” asked a voice that sounded in the darkness like a guitar out of tune.
“Who is it that speaks like that?” asked Pinocchio, feeling himself nearly frozen with fear.
“It is I. I am a poor Tunny fish, who was swallowed at the same time you were. What kind of fish are you?”
“I have nothing to do with fishes. I am a marionette.”
“Then, if you are not a fish, why were you swallowed by the monster?”
“It is all your fault. If you had not been around, I surely would have escaped. And now what can we do in this dark place?”
“We must resign ourselves to our fate, and wait until we are digested.”
“But I do not wish to be digested,” said Pinocchio, beginning to cry.
“Neither do I wish to be digested,” added the Tunny; “but I am philosopher enough to console myself by thinking that it is more dignified to die under water than to be soaking in vinegar and oil.”
“Nonsense!” cried Pinocchio.
“It is my opinion,” replied the Tunny; “and the opinion of fishes should be respected.”
“As for me,” said Pinocchio, “I wish to go away from here; I want to escape.”
“Escape if you can.”
“Is the Dogfish very large?” asked the marionette.
“Why, his body is a mile long without counting his tail.”
In the meantime Pinocchio thought he saw in the distance a little glimmer of light.
“What can that be?” he asked.
“Some poor unfortunate that is probably being digested.”
“Well, I am going to see. It may be some old fish that can tell me the way to walk around here.”
“I wish you good luck, my poor marionette.”
“Good-by, Tunny.”
“Good-by, marionette, and good fortune go with you.”
“When shall we meet again?”
“Who knows? It is better not to think of that.”