ump, he sorely wished
the people of Tarascon could see him. But his pride speedily had a fall,
for he found the movement of the camel worse than that of the boat in
crossing the Mediterranean. He was afraid he might disgrace France.
Indeed, if truth must out, France was disgraced! So, for the remainder
of their expedition, which lasted nearly a month, Tartarin preferred to
walk on foot and lead the camel.

One night in the desert, Tartarin was sure he heard sounds just like
those he had studied at the back of the travelling menagerie at
Tarascon. He was positive they were in the neighbourhood of a lion at
last. He prepared to go forward and stalk the beast. The prince offered
to accompany him, but Tartarin resolutely refused. He would meet the
king of beasts alone! Entrusting his pocket-book, full of precious
documents and bank-notes, to the prince, in case he might lose it in a
tussle with the lion, he moved forward. His teeth were chattering in his
head when he lay down, trembling, to await the lion.

It must have been two hours before he was sure that the beast was moving
quite near him in the dry bed of a river. Firing two shots in the
direction whence the sound came, he got up and bolted back to where he
had left the camel and the prince--but there was only the camel there
now! The prince had waited a whole month for such a chance!

In the morning he realised that he had been robbed by a thief who
pretended to be a prince. And here he was in the heart of savage Africa
with a little pocket money only, much useless luggage, a camel, and not
a single lion-skin for all his trouble.

Sitting on one of the desert-tombs erected over pious Mohammedans, the
great man fell to weeping bitterly. But, even as he wept the bushes were
pushed aside a little in front of him, and a huge lion presented itself.
To his honour, be it said, Tartarin never moved a muscle, but, breathing
a fervent "At last!" he leapt to his feet, and, levelling his rifle,
planted two explosive bullets in the lion's head. All was over in a
moment, for he had nearly blown the king of beasts to pieces! But in
another moment he saw two tall, enraged negroes bearing down upon him.
He had seen them before at Milianah, and this was their poor blind lion!
Fortunately for Tartarin, he was not so deeply in the desert as he had
thought, but merely outside the town of Orleansville, and a policeman
now came up, attracted by the firing, and took full particulars.