“I also recognized you,” said Geppetto, “and I would willingly have returned to the shore, but what was I to do! The sea was tremendous and a great wave upset my boat. Then a horrible Dogfish, who was near, as soon as he saw me in the water, came towards me, and, putting out his tongue, took hold of me and swallowed me as if I had been a little apple tart.”
“And how long have you been shut up here?” asked Pinocchio.
“Since that day—it must be nearly two years ago; two years, my dear Pinocchio, that have seemed like two centuries!”
“And how have you managed to live? And where did you get the candle? And the matches to light it? Who gave them to you?”
“Stop, and I will tell you everything. You must know, then, that in the same storm in which my boat was upset a merchant vessel foundered. The sailors were all saved, but the vessel went to the bottom, and the Dogfish, who had that day an excellent appetite, after he had swallowed me, swallowed also the vessel.”
“How?”
“He swallowed it in one mouthful, and the only thing that he spat out was the mainmast, that had stuck between his teeth like a fish-bone. Fortunately for me, the vessel was laden with preserved meat in tins, biscuit, bottles of wine, dried raisins, cheese, coffee, sugar, candles, and boxes of wax matches. With this providential supply I have been able to live for two years. But I have arrived at the end of my resources; there is nothing left in the larder, and this candle that you see burning is the last that remains.”
“And after that?”
“After that, dear boy, we shall both remain in the dark.”
“Then, dear little papa,” said Pinocchio, “there is no time to lose. We must think of escaping.”
“Of escaping? How?”
“We must escape through the mouth of the Dogfish, throw ourselves into the sea and swim away.”
“You talk well; but, dear Pinocchio, I don’t know how to swim.”
“What does that matter? I am a good swimmer, and you can get on my shoulders and I will carry you safely to shore.”
“All illusions, my boy!” replied Geppetto, shaking his head, with a melancholy smile. “Do you suppose it possible that a puppet like you, scarcely a yard high, could have the strength to swim with me on his shoulders!”
“Try it and you will see!”
Without another word Pinocchio took the candle in his hand, and, going in front to light the way, he said to his father:
“Follow me, and don’t be afraid.”
And they walked for some time and traversed the body and the stomach of the Dogfish. But when they had arrived at the point where the monster’s big throat began, they thought it better to stop to give a good look around and to choose the best moment for escaping.
Now, I must tell you that the Dogfish, being very old, and suffering from asthma and palpitation of the heart, was obliged to sleep with his mouth open. Pinocchio, therefore, having approached the entrance to his throat, and, looking up, could see beyond the enormous gaping mouth a large piece of starry sky and beautiful moonlight.
“This is the moment to escape,” he whispered, turning to his father; “the Dogfish is sleeping like a dormouse, the sea is calm, and it is as light as day. Follow me, dear papa, and in a short time we shall be in safety.”
They immediately climbed up the throat of the sea-monster, and, having reached his immense mouth, they began to walk on tiptoe down his tongue.
Before taking the final leap the puppet said to his father:
“Get on my shoulders and put your arms tightly around my neck. I will take care of the rest.”
As soon as Geppetto was firmly settled on his son’s shoulders, Pinocchio, feeling sure of himself, threw himself into the water and began to swim. The sea was as smooth as oil, the moon shone brilliantly, and the Dogfish was sleeping so profoundly that even a cannonade would have failed to wake him.
XXXVI
Pinocchio at Last Ceases to Be a Puppet and Becomes a Boy
Whilst Pinocchio was swimming quickly towards the shore he discovered that his father, who was on his shoulders with his legs in the water, was trembling as violently as if the poor man had an attack of ague fever.
Was he trembling from cold or from fear. Perhaps a little from both the one and the other. But Pinocchio, thinking it was from fear, said, to comfort him:
“Courage, papa! In a few minutes we shall be safely on shore.”
“But where is this blessed shore?” asked the little old man, becoming still more frightened, and screwing up his eyes as tailors do when they wish to thread a needle. “I have been looking in every direction and I see nothing but the sky and the sea.”
“But I see the shore as well,” said the puppet. “You must know that I am like a cat: I see better by night than by day.”
Poor Pinocchio was making a pretense of being in good spirits, but in reality he was beginning to feel discouraged; his strength was failing, he was gasping and panting for breath. He could do no more, and the shore was still far off.
He swam until he had no breath left; then he turned his head to Geppetto and said in broken words?
“Papa, help me, I am dying!”
The father and son were on the point of drowning when they heard a voice like a guitar out of tune saying:
“Who is it that is dying?”
“It is I, and my poor father!”
“I know that voice! You are Pinocchio!”
“Precisely; and you?”
“I am the Tunny, your prison companion in the body of the Dogfish.”
“And how did you
