"But if I help you, will you promise not to bother me again by running
after me?"

"I promise! I promise! Only hurry, for if you wait another second, I'll
be dead and gone!"

Pinocchio hesitated still another minute. Then, remembering how his
father had often told him that a kind deed is never lost, he swam to
Alidoro and, catching hold of his tail, dragged him to the shore.

The poor Dog was so weak he could not stand. He had swallowed so much
salt water that he was swollen like a balloon. However, Pinocchio, not
wishing to trust him too much, threw himself once again into the sea. As
he swam away, he called out:

"Good-by, Alidoro, good luck and remember me to the family!"

"Good-by, little Pinocchio," answered the Dog. "A thousand thanks for
having saved me from death. You did me a good turn, and, in this world,
what is given is always returned. If the chance comes, I shall be
there."

Pinocchio went on swimming close to shore. At last he thought he had
reached a safe place. Glancing up and down the beach, he saw the opening
of a cave out of which rose a spiral of smoke.

"In that cave," he said to himself, "there must be a fire. So much the
better. I'll dry my clothes and warm myself, and then--well--"

His mind made up, Pinocchio swam to the rocks, but as he started to
climb, he felt something under him lifting him up higher and higher. He
tried to escape, but he was too late. To his great surprise, he found
himself in a huge net, amid a crowd of fish of all kinds and sizes, who
were fighting and struggling desperately to free themselves.

At the same time, he saw a Fisherman come out of the cave, a Fisherman
so ugly that Pinocchio thought he was a sea monster. In place of hair,
his head was covered by a thick bush of green grass. Green was the skin
of his body, green were his eyes, green was the long, long beard that
reached down to his feet. He looked like a giant lizard with legs and
arms.

When the Fisherman pulled the net out of the sea, he cried out joyfully:

"Blessed Providence! Once more I'll have a fine meal of fish!"

"Thank Heaven, I'm not a fish!" said Pinocchio to himself, trying with
these words to find a little courage.

The Fisherman took the net and the fish to the cave, a dark, gloomy,
smoky place. In the middle of it, a pan full of oil sizzled over a
smoky fire, sending out a repelling odor of tallow that took away one's
breath.

"Now, let's see what kind of fish we have caug