The came to a deep gully and the dog prepared to make the leap. Pinocchio muttered to himself: “This is the end. If I cross this in safety, I will surely return home and go to school.”
There was a leap, and a plunge into the black, empty air. When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying at the bottom of a precipice in total darkness. How long had he been in the air? The marionette did not know. He remembered only that while flying down he had heard a familiar voice call, “Pinocchio! Pinocchio! Pinocchio!”
“Farewell to the world and to Africa,” said the marionette. “Wooden marionettes will never learn. Here I shall stay forever. It serves me right.”
CHAPTER XVII
THE CAVE
“If I get out of this prison alive, it will be the greatest wonder I have ever known.” Pinocchio sat in the spot where he had fallen. He now began to suffer from thirst. There had been a great deal of excitement, and his throat was parched. He would have given anything for a sip of the water he had so carelessly left in the middle of the street only a little while before.
“I don’t want to die here,” he said. “I must get up and walk.”
So saying, he moved slowly about, groping with his hands and feet as if he were playing blindman’s buff. The ground was soft, and the air seemed fresh. In fact, it was not so bad as he had at first thought. Only four things worried him,—darkness, hunger, thirst, and fear. Aside from these he was safe and sound.