tartarin of tarascon- 第17部分

Night　fell。

The　rosy　tint　of　nature　changed　into　violet；　and　then　into　dark　blue。　A　petty　pool　of　clear　water　gleamed　like　a　hand…glass　over　the　river…pebbles；　this　was　the　watering…place　of　the　wild　animals。

On　the　other　slope　the　whitish　trail　was　dimly　to　be　discerned　which　their　heavy　paws　had　traced　in　the　brush　　a　mysterious　path　which　made　one's　flesh　creep。　　Join　to　this　sensation　that　from　the　vague　swarming　sound　in　African　forests；　the　swishing　of　branches；　the　velvety…pads　of　roving　creatures；　the　jackal's　shrill　yelp；　and　up　in　the　sky；　two　or　three　hundred　feet　aloft；　vast　flocks　of　cranes　passing　on　with　screams　like　poor　little　children　having　their　weasands　slit。　　You　will　own　that　there　were　grounds　for　a　man　being　moved。

Tartarin　was　so；　and　even　more　than　that；　for　the　poor　fellow's　teeth　chattered；　and　on　the　cross…bar　of　his　hunting…knife；　planted　upright　in　the　bank；　as　we　repeat；　his　rifle…barrel　rattled　like　a　pair　of　castanets。　　Do　not　ask　too　much　of　a　man！　There　are　times　when　one　is　not　in　the　mood；　and；　moreover；　where　would　be　the　merit　if　heroes　were　never　afraid？

Well；　yes；　Tartarin　was　afraid；　and　all　the　time；　too；　for　the　matter　of　that。　　Nevertheless；　he　held　out　for　an　hour；　better；　for　two；　but　heroism　has　its　limits。　　Nigh　him；　in　the　dry　part　of　the　rivulet…bed；　the　Tarasconian　unexpectedly　heard　the　sound　of　steps　and　of　pebbles　rolling。　　This　time　terror　lifted　him　off　the　ground。　　He　banged　away　both　barrels　at　haphazard　into　the　night；　and　retreated　as　fast　as　his　legs　would　carry　him　to　the　marabout's　chapel…vault；　leaving　his　knife　standing　up　in　the　sand　like　a　cross　commemorative　of　the　grandest　panic　that　ever　assailed　the　soul　of　a　conqueror　of　hydras。

〃Help！　this　Way；　prance；　the　lion　is　on　me！〃

There　was　silence。　〃Prance；　prance；　are　you　there？〃

The　prince　was　not　there。　　On　the　white　moonlit　wall　of　the　fane　the　camel　alone　cast　the　queer…shaped　shadow　of　his　protuberance。　Prince　Gregory　had　cut　and　run　with　the　wallet　of　bank…notes。　　His　Highness　had　been　for　the　month　past　awaiting　this　opportunity。



VI。　Bagged　him　at　Last。


IT　was　not　until　early　on　the　morrow　of　this　adventurous　and　dramatic　eve　that　our　hero　awoke；　and　acquired　assurance　doubly　sure　that　the　prince　and　the　treasure　had　really　gone　off；　without　any　prospect　of　return。　　When　he　saw　himself　alone　in　the　little　white　tombhouse；　betrayed；　robbed；　abandoned　in　the　heart　of　savage　Algeria；　with　a　one…humped　camel　and　some　pocket…money　as　all　his　resources；　then　did　the　representative　of　Tarascon　for　the　first　time　doubt。　He　doubted　Montenegro；　friendship；　glory；　and　even　lions；　and　the　great　man　blubbered　bitterly。

Whilst　he　was　pensively　seated　on　the　sill　of　the　sanctuary；　holding　his　head　between　his　hands　and　　his　gun　between　his　legs；　with　the　camel　mooning　at　him；　the　thicket　over　the　way　was　divided；　and　the　stupor…stricken　Tartarin　saw　a　gigantic　lion　appear　not　a　dozen　paces　off。　　It　thrust　out　its　high　head　and　emitted　powerful　roars；　which　made　the　temple　walls　shake　beneath　their　votive　decorations；　and　even　the　saint's　slippers　dance　in　their　niche。

The　Tarasconian　alone　did　not　tremble。

〃At　last　you've　come！〃　he　shouted；　jumping　up　and　levelling　the　rifle。

Bang；　bang！　went　a　brace　of　shells　into　its　head。

It　was　done。　　For　a　minute；　on　the　fiery　background　of　the　Afric　sky；　there　was　a　dreadful　firework　display　of　scattered　brains；　smoking　blood；　and　tawny　hair。　　When　all　fell；　Tartarin　perceived　two　colossal　Negroes　furiously　running　towards　him；　brandishing　cudgels。　　They　were　his　two　Negro　acquaintances　of　Milianah！

Oh；　misery！

This　was　the　domesticated　lion；　the　poor　blind　beggar　of　the　Mohammed　Monastery；　whom　the　Tarasconian's　bullets　had　knocked　over。

This　time；　spite　of　Mahound；　Tartarin　escaped　neatly。　　Drunk　with　fanatical　fury；　the　two　African　collectors　would　have　surely　beaten　him　to　pulp　had　not　the　god　of　chase　and　war　sent　him　a　delivering　angel　in　the　shape　of　the　rural　constable　of　the　Orleansville　commune。　　By　a　bypath　this　garde　champetre　came　up；　his　sword　tucked　under　his　arm。

The　sight　of　the　municipal　cap　suddenly　calmed　the　Negroes'　choler。　　Peaceful　and　majestic；　the　officer　with　the　brass　badge　drew　up　a　report　on　the　affair；　ordered　the　camel　to　be　loaded　with　what　remained　of　the　king　of　beasts；　and　the　plaintiffs　as　well　as　the　delinquent　to　follow　him；　proceeding　to　Orleansville；　where　all　was　deposited　with　the　law…courts　receiver。

There　issued　a　long　and　alarming　case！

After　the　Algeria　of　the　native　tribes　which　he　had　overrun；　Tartarin　of　Tarascon　became　thence　acquainted　with　another　Algeria；　not　less　weird　and　to　be　dreaded　　the　Algeria　in　the　towns；　surcharged　with　lawyers　and　their　papers。　He　got　to　know　the　pettifogger　who　does　business　at　the　back　of　a　cafe　　the　legal　Bohemian　with　documents　reeking　of　wormwood　bitters　and　white　neckcloths　spotted　with　champoreau；　the　ushers；　the　attorneys；　all　the　locusts　of　stamped　paper；　meagre　and　famished；　who　eat　up　the　colonist　body　and　boots　　ay；　to　the　very　straps　of　them；　and　leave　him　peeled　to　the　core　like　an　Indian　cornstalk；　stripped　leaf　by　leaf。

Before　all　else　it　was　necessary　to　ascertain　whether　the　lion　had　been　killed　on　the　civil　or　the　military　territory。　　In　the　former　case　the　matter　regarded　the　Tribunal　of　Commerce；　in　the　second；　Tartarin　would　be　dealt　with　by　the　Council　of　War：　and　at　the　mere　name　the　impressionable　Tarasconian　saw　himself　shot　at　the　foot　of　the　ramparts　or　huddled　up　in　a　casemate…silo。

The　puzzle　lay　in　the　limitation　of　the　two　territories　being　very　hazy　in　Algeria。

At　length；　after　a　month's　running　about；　entanglements；　and　waiting　under　the　sun　in　the　yards　of　Arab　Departmental　offices；　it　was　established　that；　whereas　the　lion　had　been　killed　on　the　military　territory；　on　the　other　hand　Tartarin　was　in　the　civil　territory　when　he　shot。　　So　the　case　was　decided　in　the　civil　courts；　and　our　hero　was　let　off　on　paying　two　thousand　five　hundred　francs　damages；　costs　not　included。

How　could　he　pay　such　a　sum？

The　few　piashtres　escaped　from　the　prince's　sweep　had　long　since　gone　in　legal　documents　and　judicial　libations。　　The　unfortunate　lion…destroyer　was　therefore　reduced　to　selling　the　store　of　　guns　by　retail；　rifle　by　rifle；　so　went　the　daggers；　the　Malay　kreeses；　and　the　life…preservers。　　A　grocer　purchased　the　preserved　aliments；　an　apothecary　what　remained　of　the　medicaments。　　The　big　boots　themselves　walked　off　after　the　improved　tent　to　a　dealer　of　curiosities；　who　elevated　them　to　the　dignity　of　〃rarities　from　Cochin…China。〃

When　everything　was　paid　up；　only　the　lion's　skin　and　the　camel　remained　to　Tartarin。　The　hide　he　had　carefully　packed；　to　be　sent　to　Tarascon　to　the　address　of　brave　Commandant　Bravida；　and；　later　on；　we　shall　see　what　came　of　this　fabulous　trophy。　As　for　the　camel；　he　reckoned　on　making　use　of　him　to　get　back　to　Algiers；　not　by　riding　on　him；　but　by　selling　him　to　pay　his　coach…fare　　the　best　way　to　employ　a　camel　in　travelling。　　Unhappily　the　beast　was　difficult　to　place；　and　no　one　would　offer　a　copper　for　him。

Still　Tartarin　wanted　to　regain　Algiers　by　hook　or　crook。　　He　was　in　haste　again　to　behold　Baya's　blue　bodice；　his　little　snuggery　and　his　fountains；　as　well　as　to　repose　on　the　white　trefoils　of　his　little　cloister　whilst　awaiting　money　from　France。　　So　our　hero　did　not　hesitate；　distressed　but　not　downcast；　he　undertook　to　make　the　journey　afoot　and　penniless　by　short　stages。

In　this　enterprise　the　camel　did　not　cast　him　off。　The　strange　animal　had　taken　an　unaccountable　fancy　for　his　master；　and　on　seeing　him　leave　Orleansville；　he　set　to　striding　steadfastly　behind　him；　regulating　his　pace　by　this；　and　never　quitting　him　by　a　yard。

At　the　first　outset　Tartarin　found　this　touching；　such　fidelity　and　devotion　above　proof　went　to　his　heart；　all　the　more　because　the　creature　was　accommodating；　and　fed　himself　on　nothing。　Nevertheless；　after　a　few　days；　the　Tarasconian　was　worried　by　having　this　glum　companion　perpetually　at　his　heels；　to　remind　him　of　his　misadventures。　　Ire　arising；　he　hated　him　for　his　sad　aspect；　hump　and　gait　of　a　goose　in　harness。　To　tell　the　whole　truth；　he　held　him　as　his　Old　Man　of　the　Sea；　and　only　pondered　on　how　to　shake　him　off；　but　the　follower　would　not　be　shaken　off。　　Tartarin　attempted　to　lose　him；　but　the　camel　always　found　him；　he　tried　to　outrun　him；　but　the　camel　ran　faster。　　He　bade　him　begone；　and　hurled　stones　at　him。　　The　camel　stopped　with　a　mournful　mien；　but　in　a　minute　resumed　the　pursuit；　and　always　ended　by　overtaking　him。　Tartarin　had　to　resign　himself。

For　all　that；　when；　after　eight　full　days　of　tramping；　the　dusty　and　harassed　Tarasconian　espied　the　first　white　housetops　of　Algiers　glimmer　from　afar　in　the　verdure；　and　when　he　got　to　the　city　gates　on　the　noisy　Mustapha　Avenue；　amid　the　Zouaves；　Biskris；　and　Mahonnais；　all　swarming　around　him　and　staring　at　him　trudging　by　with　his　camel；　overtasked　patience　escaped　him。

〃No！　no！〃　he　growled；　〃it　is　not　likely！　I　cannot　enter　Algiers　with　such　an　animal！〃

Profiting　by　a　jam　of　vehicles；　he　turned　off　into　the　fields　and　jumped　into　a　ditch