Fatina
"Bersaglierino! Bersaglierino!" cried Pinocchio, trying to raise himself up in bed. But a horrid pain made him fall back on the pillow and forced him to scream loudly. The door of the little room opened and a Red Cross nurse in her blue uniform entered swiftly.
"Oh! At last! But be good and don't try to move! The Bersaglierino is here on your right; he is better, but you must let him be quiet, and you, too, need to rest."
"Tell me, Fatina, is the Bersaglierino really alive?"
"Don't you see him? Here he is. When he wakes up you can say a few words to him. Yesterday he was so eager to know about you, but you couldn't speak to him."
"Listen, Fatina, and I ... am I really alive?"
"It seems so to me."
"But am I ... made of wood or ..."
"You are made of iron."
"Of iron? Don't joke so with me, Fatina. If you want my nose to grow longer, dearest lady, or if you want me to turn back into a wooden puppet, I am ready to do so; but not of iron, no. I am too afraid of rust."
"But what are you talking about? Let me feel your pulse. No, that's all right, no fever. I said you were made of iron because you have come out of it all so wonderfully. You were threatened with gas gangrene, and if they had not amputated at once, it would have been the end of you, but instead ..."
"Please, please ... what did they do to me?"
"They cut off your injured leg."
"My leg!"
"Yes, indeed; they couldn't help it."
"And when did they cut it off?"
"Three days ago."
"You are perfectly certain of this?"
"I was present."
"And I ... wasn't I present?"
"I think so."
"And how is it I didn't know anything about it?"
"You were asleep."
"I think it was you who were dreaming. Look."
Before Fatina could stop him Pinocchio caught the covers and threw them off. One leg was indeed missing and just the one which he had dreamed had been burned by the brazier. He saw a heap of bloody bandages and let out such a scream that he made the other two wounded start up.
The one on the left, who looked like a monk in a hood, because from under the bands which bound his head a long shaggy beard was sticking out, cried in annoyance:
"Heh! What is it, a locomotive? Youare making as much noise as an enemy's cannon."
"Be quiet, be quiet!"
"Bersaglierino, have you seen what they did to me? They've carried off one of my legs without asking my permission."
"And they took off one of my arms, and they've made a hole in my head and cut open my stomach."
"But what kind of dirty tricks are these? I want my leg.... I want my leg!"
"If it were still on you it would be all swollen and black. Be silent, shut up, and thank God that they haven't taken the other one. Because Major Cutemup is here, and when he begins to amputate it is hard to get him to stop. Imagine, they wanted to cut off my nose."
"I want my leg!"
"Be good."
"Fatina, I beg you, make them make me another one. Write to Geppetto to make me another one, even of wood, but I want to be able to walk and run. I want to go back to the war, I do!"
The patient on the left jumped out of his bed and, in giving him a kiss, brushed his face with his bushy beard.
"There, you are a brave boy. You please me.... We will have another leg made for you, and if you want to go back to see the Boches you can come with me. Sister Fatina, is it not true that they're going to make him a new leg?"
"Certainly."
"Of wood?"
"And with machinery inside so that you can move it as if it were a real leg."
The Surgeon
"Then ..."
"Will you be good?"
"Yes ... but as soon as I catch sight of Major Cutemup I'll tell him a few things I think of him."
"How are you, Bersaglierino?"
"Better, Fatina dear."
"Be brave."
Then she moved softly away, as noiseless as a dream.
"Did you see, Pinocchio? Fatina kepther word. She had scarcely heard that I was wounded before she hurried to my bed. She is an angel and I am quite happy. But I owe it to you that I am alive. I had four bullets in my back.... Those dogs had got the range on me, and if you hadn't come to my aid they would have finished me.... And you weren't lucky, either—they shot your leg to pieces, and if the company hadn't appeared ... But we won! Hurrah for Italy!"
"And Mollica?"
"Dead. They found him near the wire, surrounded by a heap of dead enemies. He made a regular slaughter. He had your letter to Franz Joseph stuck on the end of his bayonet. Every time that he hit a foe he cried, 'Beast of a potato-eater, take this letter and carry it to your Joey.'"
"Poor Mollica! If I am able to get back there I'll avenge you."
"I told you I wanted you with me. You will see what we'll do to those creatures. I am Captain Teschisso, of the Second Regiment of Alpine Troops. What fights we have had! How we have 'strafed' them! A shell splinter gave me a whack and carried off one of my ears, but if youjoin me we'll have dozens of them every day."
"Will I go with you? Yes, indeed, if the Bersaglierino ..."
"As far as I am concerned, do what you've a mind to. I shall never return to the regiment now.... You can't make war without an arm, but ..."
Just at this moment the door of the little white room opened and Major Cutemup, followed by two young lieutenants, Fatina, and some men nurses, came in. He was a short, squatty little man, with smooth face and tiny eyes hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses, and with a stomach that would have made an alderman jealous. He looked more like a cab-driver than like an officer, and even more like a butcher who has risen to be master of a shop by selling old beef for veal.
"Good morning, boys. You are getting on finely, eh? When I take hold of you you either die or are better off than you were before anything happened to you. Let's look at you, Bersaglierino. The arm's doing well ... the wound in your head will be healed in ten days or so. Thank God that I saved your eye. It was a risk... we ought to have taken it out if we had followed the usual method.... No, no, I find you in good condition, so good, in fact, that I can tell you a piece of news ... they have recommended you for the silver medal. I believe his Majesty will come in person to pin it on your breast. It would be a real honor for our hospital.
"And you, lad? But really I don't need to bother about you, either. Boys are like lizards—you can cut them in pieces and they keep on living."
"Please, please, Mr. Major Carve-Beefsteak, I should like to know who gave you permission to cut off my leg."
"What? What? You dare ..."
"There's no good lecturing me, because I am not in the army, as poor Mollica used to say, so you don't frighten me worth a soldo. So I am just asking you who gave you permission to ... carry off my claw."
"Your claw? The femur was broken, the tibia cracked, the patella shattered, your temperature up over a hundred, delirium, threatened with gas gangrene.... I couldn't wait until you had gone to the devil before asking your permission to amputate. And, moreover, no more wordsabout it. I cut when it's my duty to cut. If, in spite of the operation, the gangrene had continued I should have amputated your other leg as well. So let's look at it. Nurse, undo the bandages."
In a minute the bloody flesh was uncovered. Pinocchio bit his lips in order to keep from yelling with pain. Cutemup approached in a solemn manner, and, nearsighted as he was, had almost to stick his nose into the wound to make his examination.
"Fine.... The healing process has already begun ... the granulation is splendid, but have you any pain in the groin, boy?"
"How in the world do you expect me to know what that is?"
"Does it hurt you here?"
"No."
"Have you any pain in the sound leg?"
"No."
"Can you move it?"
"Yes."
"Bend it at the knee."
"I am doing it."
"Again, again, again. Does it pain you?"
"No."
"Fine!... Now stretch it out."
He should never have said that. Pinocchio stretched it out with such agility that there was no difference from the way he usually administered his solemnest kicks. His foot caught Cutemup right in the stomach and knocked him breathless into the arms of the young lieutenant, who had to resort to artificial respiration to revive him.
The Alpine soldier broke out into such an astonishing laugh from beneath his bandages and his beard that the others, Fatina included, had to echo him. Pinocchio played 'possum, perfectly still with his eyes half closed. When Cutemup, quite recovered, sprang toward him to give vent to his just vengeance, he seemed much surprised to see him in such a state. He examined him attentively, and, keeping himself a respectful distance away, poked with his forefinger two or three times the leg which had given him such marvelous proof of vitality and energy, then, turning to his colleagues, he began to speak in an imposing manner:
"The accident which befell me was the result of the nervous depression of the patient. The reflex motions have superiorityover the will centers. The muscles slacken at the lightest pressure, like a cord of a strung bow. The vitality shown by the patient is due to a nervous over-excitation, not noticeable until now. I shall keep the patient under observation. If you come across similar cases, take notes of them that I may include them in my article. I shall order extra nutrition and care in building up the patient as soon as the wound has healed completely. Sister Fatina, note for the boy special rations of filet of beefsteak, roast chicken, eggs, custards well-sweetened, at dinner and again at supper."
HIS FOOT CAUGHT CUTEMUP RIGHT IN THE STOMACH AND KNOCKED HIM BREATHLESS
HIS FOOT CAUGHT CUTEMUP RIGHT IN THE STOMACH AND KNOCKED HIM BREATHLESS
HIS FOOT CAUGHT CUTEMUP RIGHT IN THE STOMACH AND KNOCKED HIM BREATHLESS
At this bill of fare Pinocchio's leg by some strange phenomenon began to bend again from the knee.
The major, thoroughly absorbed in his lesson, did not notice it: "So, then, that is understood. You, Captain Teschisso, are doing splendidly; in a few days we'll take the bandage off you. Gentlemen, let us go into the next room."
They had scarcely gone out and the door was scarcely closed before Pinocchio burst out into such a hearty laugh that the captain and Bersaglierino had to laugh, too.
"You don't seem too much depressed."
"What were you doing with that leg in the air?"
Special Nourishment
"Do you know, Captain, as my first kick had gained special nourishment for me, I wanted to give him another one so that I could get a double quantity; then there would have been something for all of you."
"Thank you, you shaved poodle."
Just then Fatina returned and was surprised to see Pinocchio laughing so hard that his tongue was hanging out with happiness.
"What's this?"
"Fatina, my compliments. Did you hear what the major ordered? Filet of beefsteak, chickens, custards with heaps of sugar, at dinner and again at supper."
"You wretch!"
"I am not a wretch; I am a poor, weak invalid and no one had better feel the muscles in my legs too much who doesn't want to get kicks in the stomach."
"You little beast! Suppose I go and tell the major that ..."
"No, for Heaven's sake! Dear Fatina, keep quiet."
"On one condition."
"Let's hear it."
"That you will be good, that you will be patient and let yourself be taken care of until it is time to fit your wooden leg."
"I promise you. You know, once I was made of wood all over. In order to get ahead I can even make up my mind to take a step backward."
Wherein We See Pinocchio's Heart
All three of them were now up again. It was to be for them a day of great gladness. Yet all three were in a bad humor. They didn't even talk. Captain Teschisso, dressed in a brand-new uniform, couldn't tear himself away from the mirror, which he addressed in a low voice:
"Just see what they have made of me. I can't go on this way.... I am not presentable. Without an ear, with a slash on the cheek, half my beard gone ... I look like a wild animal to be shown at a circus. Lord! How many kicks I'd like to give those dogs! They've botched me so I'm no longer fit for this world.... It's against the regulations, but before I die I want to devour heaps of those curs! Who allows them to make war like this? Who permits them to reduce a captain of Alpine troopsto such a sight? It would be better for me to die at once. I'm not good for anything, and that dog of a Cutemup might have made a better job of me. Let him show himself and I'll give him a piece of my mind."
Poor Teschisso! He was right! His ugly scar did disfigure him. Another man would have wept at seeing himself thus; he trembled with eagerness to be revenged.
Pinocchio, too, was grumbling like a stewpot, giving vent to his ill humor. They had put on him a wooden leg that was a real triumph of mechanism. It was jointed like a real one and moved with an automatic motion in harmony with his sound leg. Pinocchio had tried to run, to jump, and to balance, and had to convince himself that he had not lost anything by the exchange. But the leg had one fault—when he extended it it unbent too rapidly, hitting the heel on the ground with a noisy and annoying sound. And in addition to this the mechanism, which was still so new, rattled.
"Plague take it! My own didn't need to be oiled. Who knows how much oil this one will expect me to give it? But that I'll make Mr. Cutemup pay for. If hecomes up to me and repeats that I am better than I used to be I'll plant another kick in his stomach, then I'll ask how he would manage to walk if it were his, on the tip of his toes, with this heel that beats like a drumstick."
Wooden Limbs
The Bersaglierino, too, had a wooden left arm. You wouldn't even have noticed it. He could move it in any direction, and the gloved artificial hand which came out of the sleeve of his gray jacket, although a little stiff, could be moved as easily as a real hand. The wound that furrowed his forehead didn't disfigure him; indeed, it gave to his gentle features a certain air of nobility and fierceness. But the Bersaglierinowas sad, so sad that if you had looked into his eyes you would have been certain that he had to make a great effort not to cry. Pinocchio noticed it.
"Tell me, Bersaglierino, what was your business before the war?"
"What's that to you?"
"Oh, I just want to know."
"I was a journalist, a writer."
"Hm! Must be a horrid profession."
"Why?"
"Because you have to work so hard not to die of hunger."
"Who told you so?"
"Nobody. But if you had made a lot of money in your job you wouldn't have left it to volunteer, and as you get only fourteen cents a day as a volunteer at the front, as a civilian you must have been hard up all the year. Then ... you needn't make a face ... you don't write with the left hand ... so you can go back to being a journalist, even with ... the Austrian improvement."
He hoped to drive away his sadness by saying it in this way, but instead he only increased it.
"Leave me in peace, puppet!" he said,roughly and with such a stern tone that Pinocchio in his turn longed to cry.
At this moment the door of the room was opened with great violence and Major Cutemup, as if hurled by a catapult, made his appearance, followed by Fatina and by a regiment of soldiers and nurses. He was red as the comb of a cock at his first crow, wheezed every now and then like a pair of bellows, and dripped sweat as a bucket just out of the well drips water.
"Sister Fatina, I rely on you ... I rely on you to see that everything is in order. Four soldiers will wash the windows ... six will scrub the floors, which must shine like a mirror, and everything must be done in ten minutes. And you, boys, put on your special uniforms.... I have great news for you. His Majesty has announced his visit to the hospital; with his own august hands he will bestow the decorations. You, Bersaglierino, who are among these fortunate ones, take care to be irreproachable in your appearance. You, Captain ..."
"What! What did he say? Do you think I can let his Majesty see me in this frightful condition? Half a beard, half a mustache, minus an ear, half a face ..."
"But ... I don't know what you can do about it. Fix it up the best you can."
"Certainly I'll fix it up, I'll ... Good Heavens! man, let me go to a barber who can make me look like a Christian, because you, Major Cutemup, have made me resemble one of Menelik's crew."
"But ..."
"But I swear that I won't let the dogs who got me in this condition stick their fingers on my face, I tell you."
"Teschisso!"
"No, I won't let them touch me."
"Captain Teschisso, I must remind you of the respect due ..."
"What's that? Major Cutemup ... did you think I was talking of you? Not a thought of doing so. I meant those dogs of Austrians."
"A-a-a-h! Then be off to the barber's."
"Thanks. I'll have him fix me up in a minute."
"Boy, hurry up. His Majesty is coming."
Ten minutes later everything was shining like a mirror. The soldiers were already at work in the adjoining room. Pinocchio had disappeared. Teschisso had gone to beshaved. Fatina was arranging the white window-curtains. The Bersaglierino was seated on his bed, his right arm resting on his knee and his chin held in the hollow of his hand.
"What's the matter? What is it, Bersaglierino?"
He didn't answer, and Fatina, after having looked at him a minute with her large, soft eyes, came up nearer and sat down beside him on the little white bed.
"Tell me what's the trouble, Bersaglierino. Why are you crying? Why don't you make yourself handsome? Didn't you hear? The King is coming to give you the medal."
"Why should I care about that? What do you think that means to me, Fatina?"
And then, since she seemed much astonished at his words, he continued, vehemently:
"Why, indeed, should I care about that?... After they have sent me away from here I shall go back to living alone like a dog ... to fighting every day for my existence. Who will get any satisfaction from the reward the King's hand has bestowed on me? No one. Perhaps the day willcome when I shall have to pin the medal on my coat to keep the boys in the streets from making fun of me, the poor maimed creature who will wander about playing a street-organ."
"Oh, Bersaglierino! I never imagined you could talk like that. I don't want you to talk so."
And she spoke with so much feeling that he, fearing he had offended her, started to beg her pardon:
"Fatina ..."
"Tell me, aren't you glad to have done your duty, to have given your blood for your country? Didn't you volunteer? Didn't you go willingly through the barbed wire to open a road of victory for your country? And now you are almost blaming yourself for the good you have done, for fear of the morrow. And you think yourself destined to end as a laughing-stock of horrid little children? Oh, but you are bad! Tell me, are you really so sure that you are alone in the world, that there is no one who will rejoice to see shining on your breast the medal your country has bestowed on you?"
"Ah, if it were so, Fatina, if it were true!"
"Do you believe that no one has followed you in thought through all your dangers on the field of honor, that no one suffered, knowing you were wounded, or trembled at the thought of your bed of pain? Do you really believe that there is no one to rejoice at seeing you take up again your place in the world? You are young, full of ardor and intelligence ..."
"But I am poor, so poor!"
"You can get rich by working. You fought the war with weapons; continue it with the pen. Write what you have seen; you will make a name for yourself and some day will be the pride of your family."
"I! Don't make fun of me, Fatina. I, wounded, maimed, will never find a woman to link her life with mine."
"Bersaglierino, I, too, am alone in the world, free to dispose of myself. I am not rich, but I have enough to live on; I am not a professor, but I am widely educated.... I will be frank; if to-morrow a brave man like you, in the same condition, should come and ask me ..."
"To be his wife?"
"I should say yes, and I should be proud. Do you understand? Proud of him and ofthe medal shining on his breast, which would seem like my own...."
"Oh! Fatina, Fatina!"
He could say no more. Tears choked him. But she looked at him tenderly with her kind eyes, and in them, too two large tears were shining.
Pinocchio could not stand any more of this. For half an hour he had been hidden under the bed, had therefore listened to this noble dialogue, and had had to bite his lips to keep from crying. But as it was not amusing he could not stand it any longer. He crawled very quietly from his hiding-place, approached Fatina and Bersaglierino cautiously and without their seeing him or being able to put up any resistance, he gathered the two heads in his arms, brought them close together, and held them close, covering them both with kisses.
Pinocchio's generous and lovable impulse had found the way to unite these two beings whom destiny had brought together. The picture they made was interesting and touching and would have touched every one who knew them, if at this moment Captain Teschisso had not entered, quite made over by the barber.
"What ... what are you doing? Aren't you preparing for the august visit?"
"Augusta? Who's she?"
"What? Don't you know that the King, the commander-in-chief of our army, the first soldier of New Italy, the head of the state, the corporal of the Zouaves, like his grandfather before him, the flower of gentlemen, a good father of his family, one of the wisest sovereigns of Europe...? In short, you'll see him soon. Hurry up, because when I came in the royal automobile had been sighted.... Don't you think that dog of a barber fixed me up fine? Anyway, he was able to get rid of the half of my beard which the Germans shaved with a shell."
The King? This short word frightened Pinocchio terribly. This man who commanded everybody, who could put everybody in prison, who was named Majesty, August, and Victor Emanuel all at the same time, who caused the rooms to be polished in five minutes, who set Cutemup to trembling, who kept all the wounded in the hospital in order, all of them men of valor who had held their own against hundreds of the foe—frightened him like a hobgoblin orsomething similar. At the very thought of having his glance fall upon him he felt goose-flesh all over his body.
"It isn't fear; it is lack of courage or something of that sort, but I must get out of the way. I have never had anything to do with kings and I don't know much about the way they think. If Augusta, or his Majesty, is in a bad humor and should find my presence among the soldiers out of order, he can bat his eye at Cutemup, make him a sign, and ... whack! ... my head would roll on the ground. Wouldn't that murderer of a surgeon be glad to be revenged for the kick I gave him in the stomach? Yes, I must find some way ..."
His musings were interrupted by three bugle notes which brought every one to attention.
"There he is! There he is!"
Then resounded enthusiastic hurrahs for the King.
Pinocchio disappeared under Bersaglierino's bed ... popped up again, disguised himself, and no one noticed that ...
Captain Teschisso and the Bersaglierino stood at attention at the foot of their beds, straight and immovable, awaiting the royalvisit. The King in his soldier way entered without ceremony, followed by his aide-de-camp, General Win-the-War, Major Cutemup, and a number of other officers of the garrison, Red Cross nurses, and other wounded who had come from their rooms to take part in the ceremony. It didn't seem possible that the room could hold so many persons, but all of them crowded in, squeezing together in order to see the King and to be near to him. And his face, which was wrinkled, was illuminated by a kindly smile that spread out from his thick mustache grown prematurely white. He gave Teschisso a military salute, then shook his hand vigorously and said:
"I am so pleased to see you recovered. I am sure that when you go back to your regiment I shall hear more of you. You Alpine troopers are all of you wonderful soldiers."
"For Italy and for our King, your Majesty."
"For our Italy greater than ever."
"She shall be, if we have to shed all our blood."
"Such is my belief."
Major Cutemup had suddenly turnedcrimson with rage, and approached Fatina, his large, angry eyes scowling at her from behind his eyeglasses.
"Why have you treated me so?" he asked, in a low, furious voice.
"I?"
"Yes. I told you to put everything in order."
"Well?"
"Look at that mess!" and he nodded toward a kind of clothes-hanger near the head of Bersaglierino's bed, on which were hung a hat with cock plumes, a coat, with a pair of trousers all torn and ragged and dirty. It was the uniform the brave young soldier had worn on the field and which Fatina had hidden under the bed a little while ago.
Fatina didn't know what to say. The sudden appearance of this clothes-hanger, ... those clothes spread out, affected her so that she had no thought of the major or of his rage, which escaped in such violent outbursts that they would have started a windmill going.
The King had approached Bersaglierino, and General Win-the-War presented him, with these words:
"Your Majesty, this brave soldier hasbeen proposed for the medal of valor for the following reasons: enrolled as a volunteer, he took part in the first battles with the enemy, giving an example of courage and discipline; he volunteered to blow up the enemy wire defenses; he carried out the assignment given him, and, unhurt himself, he tried to free a comrade caught on the barbed wire and managed to put to flight an enemy patrol which attacked him. Then he was hit several times by machine-gun fire. Carried to the first-aid station, he showed the greatest self-control and cheered for his King and his country when he learned that his efforts had enabled his company to take an important trench from the enemy."
The King took from the hand of his adjutant a silver medal hung from a light-blue ribbon and pinned it on Bersaglierino's breast, who was so pale with emotion that he looked as if he would faint, then clasped the soldier's right hand in both of his and said:
"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo! You have done your duty as an Italian soldier. Treasure this medal which your country gives you by the hand of your King. Wear it always proudly on your breast. Every oneshould know that you deserve it and that they should follow your example.... You are crying? But it is with happiness, is it not?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"And now that you have recovered, what will you do?"
"I shall go back to my profession. I am a journalist."
"And ... will you be able?"
"I hope so. I was very severely wounded, but ..."
"You cured him, Major Cutemup?"
"I myself, your Majesty; he was one of the worst cases. The left arm carried away by a shell splinter, wounded on the temple, and threatened with damage to his eye, wounded in his third upper rib and another wound in the groin with lesion in the intestines. An abdominal operation was performed, his arm was amputated and there was a suture in the occipital region.... The poor fellow has certainly had his share."
"You can see that by looking at his glorious uniform; it is indeed a document."
The uniform in question trembled and the plumed hat shook.
"Yes ... truly ... but ..."
"Would you deny it?"
"No, your Majesty, I wanted to say that that uniform shouldn't be there just now. It is a glorious object, but in a hospital ward it may have infectious germs.... I had given orders to ... but ... and if your Majesty will permit, I will give orders to remove it at once."
He had scarcely finished speaking when the coat, trousers, and hat suddenly fell to the ground with such a curious noise that Cutemup could not help running up to see what had happened. Imagine how he looked when he found himself face to face with Pinocchio, cold with terror. He tried to hide him with the glorious garments in order to carry him off, bundled up in them, but the King turned and asked:
"What's happened?"
"Your Majesty, I don't know how to explain it.... Under these clothes was hidden a wretch who ..."
"Ah! I saw. I know him. Pinocchio is one of my old and dear acquaintances. I am glad to see him among my soldiers, in semi-military garb. Leave to Bersaglierino this uniform that is dear to him. It will be a glorious souvenir for his family.Good-by, brave soldier; remember your King. I called to you in the hour of need; if to-morrow you have need of me, remember that I shall never forget those who have served me on the battle-field."
And the good King, the loving father, the model soldier, turned to leave, followed by his suite.
Before he had crossed the threshold Pinocchio had sprung to his feet, flung him two kisses with the tips of his fingers, and began to dance like mad with happiness. His wooden leg made a horrible noise. Fatina, fearing Cutemup's anger, begged him to behave.
"What? What? If Cutemup scolds me, woe to him. Did you hear? The King is an old acquaintance of mine. If he gets offended with me, I'll take out my paper and pen and inkstand and I will write: 'Dear King, you are the best and kindest man in the world, but do me the favor to cut off the head, or some other organ, from the major who amputated my leg without permission. In this world an eye for an eye, a head for a leg. Many kisses from your Pinocchio.'"
How Pinocchio Came Face to Face with Our Alpine Troops
If you had come across him unexpectedly in his new costume I assure you you would not have recognized him. On his head was a woolen helmet from which emerged only his eyes and the point of his nose; on his back was a short coat of goatskin which swelled him out like a German stuffed with beer and sausage; his legs were lost in a pair of big boots with lots of nails. Around his waist was a huge belt of leather from which hung a number of small rope ends, and in his hand he carried a splendid stick with an iron point. Captain Teschisso was a gentleman and wanted his new orderly to be magnificently equipped. That odd creature of a mountaineer amused himself thoroughly with the rascal Pinocchio. It didn't seem real to see him strugglingto conquer the mountain peaks and ready to fight those dogs of Austrians who were up there and with whom he had so many accounts to settle. They had arrived one morning at Fort —— (censor). Teschisso had been greeted like one raised from the dead. Finally the soldiers had thrown their arms about his neck and kissed and hugged him. They all seemed like one family, and for a fact they did all resemble one another a little: tall, with extraordinary beards, with muscular legs straight as a column and hands that seemed made to give vigorous blows.
Coat of Goatskin
"Where is my company?"
"On —— [oh, that censor!], at nine thousand feet altitude."
"All well?"
"'Most all."
"And the Boches, where are they?"
"Bah! We've got them on the run."
"Send my things up to me with the first supply division; I'm off now at once."
"Nine feet of snow and a biting wind."
"Heavens! If I were sure of finding that dog who cut my beard I would go to hell itself."
"I am thinking less of you than of your little orderly."
"Ha! That youngster has a wooden leg and is as hardy as a goat."
Pinocchio, to show off, whirled his leg around and with a shy glance convinced himself that in a wink of the eye he had won the respect of the little garrison.
"Listen, Captain, if you give me something to eat I'll go ahead; if you don't, here's where I stay."
"Indeed!"
"How indeed! Did you understand that I am hungry?"
"And I have nothing more to give you to eat."
"And I stop here."
"You'll get caught in a blizzard and buried in snow and will be frozen hard like Neapolitan ice-cream."
"But ... I'm hungry."
"You have eaten two rations of bread, a box of conserved beef, nearly half a pound of chocolate ..."
"Is it my fault if the air of these mountains makes me as hungry as a wolf? You should have told me before we left. Now I know why you are always saying that you would like to eat so many Austrians. But if you think I can get used to the same diet you are much mistaken."
"Are you coming or aren't you?"
"Is it much farther?"
"Do you see that cloud up there?"
"I defy any one not to see it."
"When that is passed there is a crack in the mountain called Spaccata; we must cross that and we are there—at least if they haven't gone on ahead."
"In the clouds? Really in the clouds?"
"Certainly."
"Listen, Captain, do I really seem to you as much of a fool as that?"
"Just now, yes."
"Thanks, but you can go in the clouds by yourself; I'll turn back and bid you farewell."
He tried to make one of his usual pirouettesto turn around, but the snow slipped under his feet and he fell, sitting down, and, sliding on the white surface, was precipitated down the slope of the mountain with terrifying speed.
Sliding
"Help! Help!"
"Stick your staff in! Stick your staff in!" yelled Teschisso, who already believed him lost.
He had need to yell. Pinocchio was flying along like a little steamer under forced draught and couldn't hear anything, I assure you. Suddenly he stopped as if he were nailed to the snow. That was to be expected, you say, with that air of superior beings you assume every now and then. I know—but I can tell you Pinocchio didn't expect it, nor even Teschisso, who was leaping down to help his little friend.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Do you feel ill?"
"No, not exactly ill, but I suffered terribly from—lack of courage."
"Why don't you get up?"
"I'm afraid of sliding off again."
"Let me help you."
Captain Teschisso took hold of the rope Pinocchio had tied around his waist and pulled one end of it through his leather belt, fastened the other end round his body, and, after planting his feet firmly, said: "Take hold of the rope and pull yourself up. You are quite safe; the mountain will crumble before I fall."
Pinocchio did his best to get on his feet, but couldn't succeed. His hinder parts adheredto the crust of the snow as if some magician had glued them firmly. Teschisso, who had little patience and thought that Pinocchio was feigning in order not to have to climb the mountain, gave such a vigorous pull on the rope tied to the boy's belt that he jerked him up, swung him through the air for several feet, and flung him face downward on a heap of snow as downy as a feather-bed. A piece of gray cloth left behind showed the spot where Pinocchio had been miraculously halted in his precipitous descent. Teschisso glanced at it and couldn't keep back one of his loud, honest mountain laughs. Pinocchio, believing he was being swung around for fun, sprang to his feet, so furious that the captain's hilarity grew even stronger and louder.
"Heavens! And you can thank Heaven that you are still in the land of the living. Look there and feel the back of your trousers. Hah, hah, hah! Don't you understand yet what has happened to you? You were caught in a wolf-trap which the Austrians put there to catch some of us, and instead you were the one, which isn't the same thing at all."
PINOCCHIO DID HIS BEST TO GET ON HIS FEET, BUT COULDN'T SUCCEED
PINOCCHIO DID HIS BEST TO GET ON HIS FEET, BUT COULDN'T SUCCEED
PINOCCHIO DID HIS BEST TO GET ON HIS FEET, BUT COULDN'T SUCCEED
Notwithstanding the laughter of the captain, Pinocchio's anger evaporated in a second. His eyes were fixed on the scraps of his trousers that still hung on the teeth of the trap and his hands were rubbing the frozen surface left uncovered. He longed to cry, and felt so ridiculous that he was almost on the point of flinging himself again down the snowy slope.
"Come on, come on! There's no time to lose. There is a long road to go and the clouds are hanging lower. There's no sense in your staying there like a macaw, weeping for the seat of your breeches. When we arrive up there I'll have the company's tailor mend them for you. You've got to march, and no more nonsense. Forward, march!"
"Captain, it's impossible."
"Heavens alive! How impossible?"
"I am not presentable."
"Why?"
"If we find the enemy and the Austrians see me with my trousers in such a state, they will say that the Italian army ..."
"Fool! The Italian army never turns its rear to the enemy, and you won't, either."
"But ..."
"If you are afraid of taking cold in your spine that's another matter. If that's the case let's see what can be done."
Captain Teschisso turned Pinocchio over, took a copy of a newspaper out of his pocket, folded it over four times, and stuck it into the hole of the trousers. And he did it so well that the "Latest News" with the headlines seemed to be framed in the ragged edges of the cloth.
"There you are. Are you satisfied?"
To tell the truth, he would have preferred to consider a little before answering, but the captain didn't give him the time. He started off with a quick stride, pulling the rope after him which he had fastened to his belt, as if bringing a calf to the butcher.
I do not know if you, my children, have ever been up in the high mountains. You must know that after you reach a certain altitude, whether because the air becomes rarefied or because of the silence that surrounds you, you seem to be living another life in another world. Your breath grows shorter; it seems as if you could not draw a long one, while the lungs are so full ofoxygen that the heart beats more rapidly; then fatigue is followed by a condition of strange torpor. Nevertheless, you continue to climb without effort, as if the legs moved automatically. If you speak, the voice reaches the ears faintly as if it came from a distance. Sometimes you have a certain discomfort called mountain-sickness, which makes the temples throb and brings with it such a languor that the traveler is forced to give up his ascent. Pinocchio, who for some time had been experiencing all these sensations peculiar to the high mountains, found himself suddenly hidden in a fog so thick that he couldn't see a hand's-breath before his nose.
Not seeing Teschisso any more, and not feeling his numbed legs move, and feeling himself dragged upward and upward through the darkness as if by some prodigious force, he really imagined himself to have entered a new world, and was seized by such a terror that he began to scream as if his throat were being cut. But, seeing that his voice didn't carry far and that Teschisso was not affected by it, he thought it easier to let himself be dragged along and to spare his breath for a better cause.
"I'd like to know where that creature is dragging me," he began to grumble in a low voice like a somnambulist in the dark to give himself courage. "I'd like to know where he is taking me. I am almost beginning to believe that I am really in the clouds, but I'd like to know what need there is to climb 'way up here to fight when there is plenty of room down below. Anyway, I don't believe that we'll find a single Austrian up here in the clouds; it's just a fancy of the captain, who must be a trifle crazy. Once I heard a country priest say that the Heavenly Father lives in the clouds to let the water down when the peasants need it to water their cabbages and turnips, and to keep the sun lighted to warm those who have no clothes. It looks to me as if He had let the Alpine troops take His place.
"Hum! Let's see how this is going to come out. All I care about is to fill my stomach when we arrive, because I am hungry and can't stand it any longer. I've been eating snow for an hour now, but I don't get any nourishment from that. I am beginning to think I was better off where I was before. If Bersaglierino hadn't been injured I'd still be with him and hisfine regiment. At least down there I could hear some noise ... patapin! patapum ... pum! Here there's nothing but snow and ice, not a living person to be seen. I should just like to know with whom we can fight. In any case, if the Austrians are up there it seems to me it'll be hard to get close enough to bother them.... But it's easy to see that the air up there isn't for me; I can scarcely go on, but if I slip I'd have to fall all the way, as I did this morning. If I hadn't been so frightened I should almost have enjoyed it. I went along like a trolley-car, and such speed! But I left my trousers on the way. A nice sight I'll be when I'm introduced to the company with the newspaper on ... the rear front! And, to tell the truth, it doesn't keep me very warm. I feel a little cold in my back. I don't know whether it really comes from that, but I feel it, almost—if I didn't feel so well—as if I were going to be sick."
Teschisso noticed the dead weight on the rope he was pulling and absent-mindedly quickened his pace, so terrifyingly horizontal. If the boy had fainted it wouldn't be an easy matter to carry him to safetyin such weather. Although he knew the rocks inch by inch, it was not easy to find the way in the whiteness of the snow nor to judge how much more of the road there still remained to cover, on account of the fog which hid the landscape. He was reproaching himself for not having listened to the advice of his comrades at the fort, who had advised him to delay his climb, when he heard a strange metallic noise which grew stronger each moment.
"No so bad. Here we are!"
He took a few steps more, then, pulling from his pocket a horn whistle, he blew several short, shrill blasts. He was answered by a dozen voices, one deep one calling:
"Who goes there?"
"Friends."
"Pasquale."
"Pinerolo."
"I'm well. Who are you?"
"Captain Teschisso."
"Bah! Don't believe it."
"Here, you dog! I tell you it is I."
"Captain Teschisso is killed. Too bad. I saw him fall down in the valley."
"Oh, did you, Sergeant Minestron?"
"I'll be dogged if it isn't he; it really is he!"
From the fog emerged several Alpine figures; they came nearer, growing more distinct, and then there was a yell of delight.
"It is he in flesh and blood. Hurrah!"
"Hurrah for our captain!"
"Thank God that he is really alive."
"Lieutenant, Lieutenant, come here ... a surprise!"
"Captain, how many surprises?"
"Let me get my breath; you are suffocating me with your hugs. Where are they?"
"The Austrians?"
"Heavens! Whom do you suppose I'm talking about? I came up here for the express purpose of getting even with them!"
"They are a long distance away, Captain. We must transport our artillery up to Mount X [censor]; there we'll go for them."
"And have you got thefilovia[aerial railway] in working order for that purpose?"
"Yes, indeed! They have been working on it for three days."
"And the company?"
"They are intrenched in the hut on Mount X with the battalion."
"It will take four good hours to get there."
"Even more, Captain."
"And how will I manage to tow along this lump of a Pinocchio who is half dead with mountain-sickness?"
"Pinocchio?"
"Where is he?"
"Pull the rope and take him off my back; he has tired me out."
Pinocchio, who was in a state of great weakness and curiously sleepy, felt himself lifted up and whirled around to the outburst of loud laughter. It seemed to him that something slipped down his throat which burned and made him cough and sneeze ... then he thought he was stretched out on a bed that was rather hard, but covered with warm and heavy coverings; then ... he experienced a strange feeling of comfort disturbed only by a long, monotonous, persistent humming.
If he had been able to notice what was happening to him he would either have died of fright or he would have believed himself in the very hands of God. Fastened to the gun-carriage of a six-inch cannon, suspended in the car of afilovia, he was traveling overthe abyss which separates two of our giant Alps. Below him was a sea of clouds, above the beautiful blue sky, all about him the gleam of white snow, and on the snow here and there a group of little gray points, like grains of sand lost in all this immensity. Those were our Alpine troops, the dear big boys who were laughing at the joke played on Pinocchio, and defying serenely all the obstacles that nature opposed to their victorious advance on Italian soil which Austria's power had for so many years disputed with us.
When Pinocchio regained his senses he found himself lying on the ground wrapped up in coverlets and warm as a bun just out of the oven. Above his head dangled horizontally the huge basket from which he had been flung by the shock of its sudden halt, and which swung on the steel cables of thefiloviaas if it were weary of being up there and eager to set about its job. All about was the gleam of the snow, even though the light was growing paler every moment. I bet you a soldo against a lira what hour it was. But Pinocchio guessed it from the odor of cooking whichsweetened the air all about, an odor which would have brought a dead dyspeptic to life. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound, rolled his eyes in every direction, in all corners, to discover the spot whence came the delicious fragrance, but couldn't see anything but snow, nothing, not even a curl of distant smoke. He was so hungry that he thought he would faint.
"I am dreaming with eyes open. How is it possible that there should be in this desert pastry covered with caramel sauce? Because I know I am not mistaken ... the odor I smell is just that. If I had only a piece of bread, by means of my nose and by means of my mouth I could fool myself into believing that I was dining magnificently, but ..."
But the odor affected him so strongly that he had to get up to limber up his muscles. He had scarcely got to his feet when a strange thing happened—from the very spot where he had been lying a puff of smoke rose gently upward, and this smoke had precisely the odor of pastry covered with caramel sauce.