arrived on the ground with the skin grazed from their hands and knees.

But they were not to be beaten by so little; collecting a quantity of
dry wood, they piled it beneath the pine and set fire to it. In less
time than it takes to tell, the pine began to burn and to flame like a
candle blown by the wind. Pinocchio, seeing that the flames were
mounting higher every instant, and not wishing to end his life like a
roasted pigeon, made a stupendous leap from the top of the tree and
started afresh across the fields and vineyards. The assassins followed
him, and kept behind him without once giving up.

The day began to break and they were still pursuing him. Suddenly
Pinocchio found his way barred by a wide, deep ditch full of stagnant
water the color of coffee. What was he to do? "One! two! three!" cried
the puppet, and, making a rush, he sprang to the other side. The
assassins also jumped, but not having measured the distance
properly--splash! splash! they fell into the very middle of the ditch.
Pinocchio, who heard the plunge and the splashing of the water, shouted
out, laughing, and without stopping:

"A fine bath to you, gentleman assassins."

And he felt convinced that they were drowned, when, turning to look, he
perceived that, on the contrary, they were both running after him, still
enveloped in their sacks, with the water dripping from them as if they
had been two hollow baskets.