Gobbolino put a paw nervously on the side of the cauldron, expecting to be burned, but it was only lukewarm.
“Not like that, you lazy cat! Get up on your hind legs and feel the water inside it!” the witch cried sharply, and she came to stand over him while he dipped his right paw into the liquid, where the oily bubbles swam round and round at his stirring.
“Not that paw! Will you never remember what I have taught you?” screeched the witch. “You must always stir a spell with your left paw, or you may spoil it before you begin! Go on then! Tell me if it is getting hot!”
Gobbolino was forced to obey her, and almost immediately the dirt was washed off his paw, which gleamed pure white in the murky cave before he could hide it out of sight.
The witch stared at it, and gave a gasp of horror. Then she seized Gobbolino by the neck and held him up in front of her, staring into his face.
“Sootica!Sootica!” she cried aloud. “Why, you wretched little impostor, you are not my cat at all!”
“No, ma’am! I’m sorry, ma’am!” gasped Gobbolino, his eyes wide with fright. “But I’ll do my best to serve you, ma’am! I assure you I will!”
He expected at any moment to be thrown into the cauldron, or else taken to the entrance of the cavern and hurled down the Hurricane Mountains as the witch had threatened to do long ago, but for the moment she dropped him on the ground and stared at him very thoughtfully.
“White paw!… Blue eyes!” she muttered. “Why I do believe… I do declare I have seen you before! I believe you are brother to my own good-for-nothing cat! And once, long ago,’ you were both here together in my cavern. Am I right, cat?”
“Yes, ma’am! If you please, ma’am!” said Gobbolino, lowering his beautiful blue eyes to the floor.
“Then what are you doing here now?” thundered the witch in a terrible voice.
Gobbolino could think of nothing better to say than: “I beg your pardon, ma’am!”
“And where is my cat Sootica?” demanded the witch.
Gobbolino was in a terrible quandary. He did not know how far on her journey his sister might have travelled, but he was almost certain the witch would be after her in a minute if he confessed their plans. What he did not know was that witches can see very little by day, and are afraid of sunlight. It was most unlikely that she would chase after Sootica until nightfall.
He went on looking at the floor and said nothing.
“Do you mean to tell me you have not seen her at all?” asked the witch.
“Oh yes, ma’am, I saw her!” confessed Gobbolino.
“WHERE did you see her?” demanded the witch.
“Why, in the cave, ma’am, all in the moonlight,” said Gobbolino.
“But this morning.. when the sun rose..?”
“When I woke up in the morning she was gone,” said Gobbolino truthfully.
“I see it all! I see it all!” raged the witch. “She has left me! My cat has deserted me! And she put you in her place to deceive me while she escaped! Isn’t that true, kitchen cat?”
“Yes, ma’am!” said Gobbolino, trembling and expecting to be destroyed at any minute.
But the witch sat down on her stool and rocked herself to and fro.
“Why did she leave me… oh why?” she moaned, with grey tears pouring down her shrivelled cheeks. “All these months I fed and trained her, and taught her all she knows. She had become the best witch’s cat in all the world! Why should she want to leave me here alone now that I am old and getting helpless? She knows I can’t get on without her! She knows I can’t even make a spell without her to read it to me out of my book. How could she desert me? How could she be so cruel? Has she gone to find a younger witch, who can teach her more than I can? So selfish! So unkind! If I had anything more to show her I would have taught it to her.. she knows that! I’m so old! I can’t go on for ever! Witches depend on their cats to stay beside them till they die! Didn’t she know it would kill me to let her go?”
The more the witch sobbed and cried the less like a witch she appeared and the more like a lonely old woman.
“Wasn’t I wicked enough for her?” she moaned; till Gobbolino’s heart was touched; and he cautiously rubbed his body against her legs.
“I think my sister had got tired of being a witch’s cat!” he told her. “I think she wanted to be a good cat for a change.”
“Good?” said the witch, quite startled. “How could she be good? She was born and bred a witch’s cat!”
Gobbolino said nothing, and the witch’s eye fell on him again. “Ohyou!” she said scornfully. “You were only born half a witch’s kitten! Look at your white paw and your blue eyes! Poor miserable little creature, when I changed you back into a kitchen cat I had only to finish off what was already begun. But my beautiful black Sootica! How could she treat me so badly? How could she break my old heart? She has left me. Andwhere is she now?”
The old witch went back to sobbing and crying and rocking herself to and fro, till Gobbolino did not know how to comfort her. She seemed to have lost all her desire to punish him, in fact one of her claw-like hands was actually caressing and rubbing his neck as if he were Sootica his sister. The feel of his fur seemed to comfort her a little.
“What shall I do? What shall I do?” she sobbed over and over again, and Gobbolino was so overcome with pity that he crept on to her lap, and lay down as close to her crabby old heart as he could push himself.
But her tears and sobs went on and on. He had never known anyone cry so long or so bitterly He found himself blaming his sister Sootica for her selfishness and her desertion. If he had known how her escape would affect the old witch he would never have agreed to help her. Danger was one thing, desertion was another, and here was a poor old woman in the throes of bitter despair. Gobbolino was bitterly ashamed of his sister, and wondered how in the world he could fetch her back.
The old woman slowly sobbed herself off to sleep, but Gobbolino would not creep from her lap for fear of waking her to a new sense of loss. He was willing to give her what little comfort he could.
Meanwhile the sun crept slowly up the rocks and touched the crag that signified midday.
Gobbolino watched it.
Now Sootica would have reached the river! Now she would have swum across it and the witch could no longer capture her and bring her home. Half of Gobbolino rejoiced at her escape. The other half reproached her for her selfishness and cruelty in leaving her old mistress. Could she really hope to become a good kitchen cat if she began with such behaviour?
He shifted his paws, and the witch gave a little sobbing moan.
“Puss! Pretty Pusskins!” she murmured, but Gobbolino knew she was mistaking him for his sister.
Slowly the sun crossed the sky and moved across the rocks. He had a long way to go before nightfall, but if he left now he might just cross the plain before it became too dark to see his way. His friend, the little wooden horse, would be waiting for him in the shade of the forest, and oh, the joy of having his companionship again! He felt comforted by the very thought.
His fur was damp with the witch’s tears. He could not find it in his heart to leave her just yet. Perhaps, a little later, when she woke up, and seemed a little less wretched, he would go down the path and maybe spend the night in one of the caves with the bats below. He did not think the witch would want to harm him now. And she could not have any real interest in a common kitchen cat.
He dozed off on her skinny lap, and slept for a couple of hours.
When he awoke the cave entrance was golden with afternoon sunshine, and he thought he heard someone coming up the hill. It must be Sootica!
But the person who suddenly appeared in the cavern entrance was not Sootica, but the little wooden horse!
11AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN [Êàðòèíêà: i_022.jpg]
The little wooden horse had waited patiently hour after hour for his friend to reappear.