“What is the matter?”
“Don’t you see the water is gone? The tide has gone out, and now how am I to get back to the sea? Before the tide comes in again I shall be dead. Oh, oh, I shall never see dear father again.” And as he talked poor Marsovino was beginning to breathe with difficulty, and to suffer greatly.
Pinocchio understood little about tides, but he knew what Marsovino meant by dying.
“And it is all my fault,” he cried, pulling at his hair. “If he dies, poor me, what shall happen to me? I must find some way of saving him.”
Marsovino was now giving little sign of life. He lay on the sand, with eyes closed, and breathing heavily.
With two bounds, Pinocchio was on top of the rocky ledge. Before him was the sea.
“If only it were possible to break a hole in this rock,” he thought.
As if in answer, a strange object made its appearance in front of him. It was a white spiral pole about two yards long. Behind the pole Pinocchio saw a round gray head spotted with black. Against the rocks the animal came with such force that they trembled. Suddenly an idea struck our hero.
“Pardon me,” he called, “but will you allow me to speak with you a moment?”
The immense animal, about six yards long, looked the boy over.