His ostrich was no longer alone. There stood another. The new arrival, somewhat smaller, but uglier and even more ferocious than the first, moved cautiously, ready for fight. Suddenly Pinocchio saw the gleam of a knife, and an instant later the ostrich that had carried him thus far fell to the ground, wounded to death. The marionette could not understand how it was possible for a bird to carry a knife hidden beneath its wings and to make use of it. Yet the thing had happened right before his eyes; there was no doubt about it.
While seeking an explanation for this very strange incident, he saw the victorious ostrich draw first one arm, then the other, from beneath its feathers, and finally take off its beak and place it upon the ground. The second ostrich was a man.
Pinocchio now began to understand what had happened, and to hate the trickster who had put on the feathers of an ostrich, in order to attack and kill the poor creature that lay there breathing its last.
The man approached the dying ostrich and tried to lift the huge bird to his shoulders, but in spite of his great strength he failed. Then looking about in search of help, he saw the marionette, whose head was out of the water, and signaled to him to come ashore. Pinocchio would have refused, but there was the knife lying on the ground, and there was the man. He decided to obey.
He came out of the pond as best he could, and the ugly black man began to laugh. He laughed and laughed until he was able to stand no longer, and could only throw himself upon the ground, where he lay, breathless and weak. The marionette, seeing this, said to himself: “If I do not escape now, it will be my own fault. My dear legs, it is no dishonor to run when you must!” and he went on at a gallop toward a hill which could be seen a short distance away.
“May you die of laughing, you villain!” he cried as he ran.
Presently he was somewhat alarmed to discover that the man was running after him. Feeling sure, however, that he could easily outrun his pursuer, he halted a moment, as if waiting for him. The man was hurrying on, thinking that the boy could go no farther, when the saucy marionette, putting his hand to his mouth, shouted “Cuckoo!” Then at a pace swifter than the wind he set off once more, pausing now and again to call out, “Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
Pinocchio had nearly reached the top of the hill, and the man was halfway up, when a loud roar made them both stop. Turning around, they saw that a lion was carrying off the dead ostrich. At that, the hunter thrust his fingers into his curly hair, and without paying further attention to the marionette, started off to regain the knife, which was still lying where it had fallen.
“Tit for tat,” Pinocchio shouted after him, and went on up the hill.
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