The marionette was on the point of filling his mouth a second time, when he heard a frightful roar directly under his feet. The shock almost tumbled him down headfirst. Had he fallen, how unfortunate it would have been! He would have gone straight into the deep mouth of an African lion which was ready to devour him at one gulp.
“Oh, mercy!” cried the marionette. And the lion gave another dreadful roar which seemed to say: “Mercy indeed! I have you now, you little thief.”
“Dear lion,” pleaded Pinocchio, “have pity on a poor orphan lad who is nearly starving!”
The lion roared still louder. “Who has given you permission to take what belongs to another without having earned it by useful and honest work? In this world he who does not work must starve.”
“You are right, my dear lion, you are right. I am ready to pay to the last cent for all the honey I eat, but please don’t seem so angry or I shall die of fear.”
Then the lion stopped roaring, and sitting down upon the ground, he looked at the marionette as if to say: “Well, what are you going to do about it? Are you coming down or not?”
“Listen, my dear lion,” answered Pinocchio; “so long as you stay there, I shall not come down. If you want me to go away and leave the honey, remove yourself a hundred miles or so, and then I will obey you.”
The lion did not move.
For almost an hour Pinocchio sat glued to the tree, not daring to eat the honey or to come down to the waiting lion. The hot rays of the sun beat upon him. He felt that he must die, for hunger, fear, and heat seemed ready to destroy him.
“Surely there must be away out of this,” he thought. “That lion must have in him some spark of kindness. He has made up his mind to keep me company, and perhaps it is my duty to thank him.”
Then the marionette raised his hand to ask permission to speak. It would have been better had he kept still.
At this gesture the lion uttered a roar so loud that it shook the whole forest. He began to lash the ground with his tail, sending up a cloud of dust that nearly choked the marionette, and repeating all the while in lion language, “If you move hand or foot, you will die!”
Pinocchio sat still. Another hour passed in silence. Pinocchio still suffered from the heat and from hunger. Both honey and shade were within easy reach, and he could enjoy neither.
“What an obstinate beast!” he muttered. “How stupid he is to wait there! There is enough room in the forest for us both.”
But the lion did not move, and Pinocchio’s suffering was great. He was sure now that he was going to die, and he looked sadly at those wooden legs which had carried him through so many adventures. There was the shade, but he could not reach it. There was the honey that must not be touched.
“Eat! eat!” said the honey. “Come! come!” said the shade.
Fortunately a new character now arrived on the scene. A magnificent giraffe came along through the bushes, eating the tender shoots as it approached the spot.
Pinocchio saw the giraffe and recognized it at once from a picture of one he had seen in school. The lion saw it also. What should he do? Continue to watch the marionette, or attack and carry off the giraffe? He decided to take the giraffe. As the animal raised its head to bite off the leaves from a tall acacia, the lion leaped at its throat and killed it. Seizing the body in his powerful jaws, the lion disappeared through the forest, and Pinocchio was left behind to have his fill of honey. He ate as he had never eaten before.
When he could eat no longer he came down from the tree, but how strange he felt! His eyes were dim, and his head began to swim, while his legs went here and there in every direction. He could not even talk clearly.
“African honey plays jokes upon those who eat too much of it!” he seemed to hear some one say. He turned to see who it was that had spoken to him, but no one was there. The next moment he fell heavily to the ground as if he had been knocked down with a club.
“That is what happens to greedy boys!” continued the voice of the little bird who had shown him the honey, but Pinocchio lay fast asleep.
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