you in the New World, far across the ocean."

"How far is it from here to the shore?" asked Pinocchio anxiously.

"More than fifty miles."

"Fifty miles? Oh, dear Pigeon, how I wish I had your wings!"

"If you want to come, I'll take you with me."

"How?"

"Astride my back. Are you very heavy?"

"Heavy? Not at all. I'm only a feather."

"Very well."

Saying nothing more, Pinocchio jumped on the Pigeon's back and, as he
settled himself, he cried out gayly:

"Gallop on, gallop on, my pretty steed! I'm in a great hurry."

The Pigeon flew away, and in a few minutes he had reached the clouds.
The Marionette looked to see what was below them. His head swam and he
was so frightened that he clutched wildly at the Pigeon's neck to keep
himself from falling.

They flew all day. Toward evening the Pigeon said:

"I'm very thirsty!"

"And I'm very hungry!" said Pinocchio.

"Let us stop a few minutes at that pigeon coop down there. Then we can
go on and be at the seashore in the morning."

They went into the empty coop and there they found nothing but a bowl of
water and a small basket filled with chick-peas.

The Marionette had always hated chick-peas. According to him, they had
always made him sick; but that night he ate them with a relish. As he
finished them, he turned to the Pigeon and said:

"I never should have thought that chick-peas could be so good!"

"You must remember, my boy," answered the Pigeon, "that hunger is the
best sauce!"

After resting a few minutes longer, they set out again. The next morning
they were at the seashore.

Pinocchio jumped off the Pigeon's back, and the Pigeon, not wanting any
thanks for a kind deed, flew away swiftly and disappeared.

The shore was full of people, shrieking and tearing their hair as they
looked toward the sea.

"What has happened?" asked Pinocchio of a little old woman.

"A poor old father lost his only son some time ago and today he built a
tiny boat for himself in order to go in search of him across the ocean.
The water is very rough and we're afraid he will be drowned."

"Where is the little boat?"

"There. Straight down there," answered the little old woman, pointing to
a tiny shadow, no bigger than a nutshell, floating on the sea.

Pinocchio looked closely for a few minutes and then gave a sharp cry:

"It's my father! It's my father!"

Meanwhile, the little boat, tossed about by the angry waters, appeared
and disappeared in the waves. And