That would not of itself have been so bad, for, like children
learning to walk, baby pigeons must have many a disaster before the art of
flying is completely mastered, but, by some strange chance, it happened
that a lean tortoise-shell kitten was prowling about one of the side
streets and at that moment poked her head into St. Mark's Square. Now, in
Venice, there are very few cats--in fact, because of the esteem in which
pigeons are held, they are not popular pets. More than that, they are
positively prohibited from St. Mark's Square, as any well-trained feline
should know.
Where this cat came from, and to whom she belonged, ever remained a
mystery, but as she curiously poked her head into the forbidden precinct
she caught sight of Chico, lying stunned and helpless from his fall. Here
was her chance. Straightway flinging caution to the winds, with a quick
spring she landed full upon the trembling bird, at the same time seizing
him with her paws and burying her cruel teeth in his tender flesh.
What would have been the result I shudder to reflect, had not Andrea at
that moment appeared upon the scene. With a scream of terror he rushed
forward, clapping his hands and making such an outcry that the kitten,
frightened, dropped her prey and disappeared down the side street from
which she had ventured.
When Paolo arrived on the scene a few moments later he found Andrea,
well-nigh distracted, hugging his wounded pet to his breast, and whispering
over and over again:
"Chico, Chico, you mustn't die--you mustn't die!"
It took Paolo but a few moments to assure himself that Chico was not
seriously hurt, although he bore the scar made by the cruel claws for many
a day, and it was weeks before he dared again to try the flight from his
nest to the pavement.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40