tartarin of tarascon-第5节

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se　peculiarities　rang　out　till　the　windows　shivered。

The　most　surprised　of　men　in　the　town　on　hearing　that　Tartarin　was　going　away　to　Africa；　was　Tartarin　himself；　　But　only　see　what　vanity　is！　　Instead　of　plumply　answering　that　he　was　not　going　at　all；　and　had　not　even　had　the　intention；　poor　Tartarin；　on　the　first　of　them　mentioning　the　journey　to　him；　observed　with　a　neat　little　evasive　air；　〃Aha！　maybe　I　shall　　but　I　do　not　say　as　much。〃　The　second　time；　a　trifle　more　familiarised　with　the　idea；　he　replied；　〃Very　likely；〃　and　the　third　time；　〃It's　certain。〃

Finally；　in　the　evening；　at　Costecalde's　and　the　club；　carried　away　by　the　egg…nogg；　cheers；　and　illumination；　intoxicated　by　the　impression　that　bare　announcement　of　his　departure　had　made　on　the　town；　the　hapless　fellow　formally　declared　that　he　was　sick　of　banging　away　at　caps；　and　that　he　would　shortly　be　on　the　trail　of　the　great　lions　of　the　Atlas。　A　deafening　hurrah　greeted　this　assertion。　Whereupon　more　egg…nogg；　bravoes；　handshaking；　slappings　of　the　shoulder；　and　a　torchlight　serenade　up　to　midnight　before　Baobab　Villa。

It　was　Sancho…Tartarin　who　was　anything　but　delighted。　　This　idea　of　travel　in　Africa　and　lion…hunting　made　him　shudder　before…hand；　and　when　the　house　was　re…entered；　and　whilst　the　complimentary　concert　was　sounding　under　the　windows；　be　bad　a　dreadful　〃row〃　with　Quixote…Tartarin；　calling　him　a　cracked　head；　a　visionary；　imprudent；　and　thrice　an　idiot；　and　detailing　by　the　card　all　the　catastrophes　awaiting　him　on　such　an　expedition　　shipwreck；　rheumatism；　yellow　fever；　dysentery；　the　black　plague；　elephantiasis；　and　the　rest　of　them。

In　vain　did　Quixote…Tartarin　vow　that　he　had　not　committed　any　imprudence　　that　he　would　wrap　himself　up　well；　and　take　even　superfluous　necessaries　with　him。　　Sancho…Tartarin　would　listen　to　nothing。　　The　poor　craven　saw　himself　already　torn　to　tatters　by　the　lions；　or　engulfed　in　the　desert　sands　like　his　late　royal　highness　Cambyses；　and　the　other　Tartarin　only　managed　to　appease　him　a　little　by　explaining　that　the　start　was　not　immediate；　as　nothing　pressed。

It　is　clear　enough；　indeed；　that　none　embark　on　such　an　enterprise　without　some　preparations。　　A　man　is　bound　to　know　whither　he　goes；　hang　it　all！　and　not　fly　off　like　a　bird。　Before　anything　else；　the　Tarasconian　wanted　to　peruse　the　accounts　of　great　African　tourists；　the　narrations　of　Mungo　Park；　Du　Chaillu；　Dr。　Livingstone；　Stanley；　and　so　on。

In　them；　he　learnt　that　these　daring　explorers；　before　donning　their　sandals　for　distant　excursions；　hardened　themselves　well　beforehand　to　support　hunger　and　thirst；　forced　marches；　and　all　kinds　of　privation。　Tartarin　meant　to　act　like　they　did；　and　from　that　day　forward　he　lived　upon　water　broth　alone。　The　water　broth　of　Tarascon　is　a　few　slices　of　bread　drowned　in　hot　water；　with　a　clove　of　garlic；　a　pinch　of　thyme；　and　a　sprig　of　laurel。　　Strict　diet；　at　which　you　may　believe　poor　Sancho　made　a　wry　face。

To　the　regimen　of　water　broth　Tartarin　of　Tarascon　joined　other　wise　practices。　　To　break　himself　into　the　habit　of　long　marches；　he　constrained　himself　to　go　round　the　town　seven　or　eight　times　consecutively　every　morning；　either　at　the　fast　walk　or　run；　his　elbows　well　set　against　his　body；　and　a　couple　of　white　pebbles　in　the　mouth；　according　to　the　antique　usage。

To　get　inured　to　fog；　dew；　and　night　coolness；　be　would　go　down　into　his　garden　every　dusk；　and　stop　out　there　till　ten　or　eleven；　alone　with　his　gun；　on　the　lookout；　behind　the　baobab。

Finally；　so　long　as　Mitaine's　wild　beast　show　tarried　in　Tarascon；　the　cap…poppers　who　were　belated　at　Costecalde's　might　spy　in　the　shadow　of　the　booth；　as　they　crossed　the　Castle…green；　a　mysterious　figure　stalking　up　and　down。　　It　was　Tartarin　of　Tarascon；　habituating　himself　to　hear　without　emotion　the　roarings　of　the　lion　in　the　sombre　night。



X。　Before　the　Start。


PENDING　Tartarin's　delay　of　the　event　by　all　sorts　of　heroic　means；　all　Tarascon　kept　an　eye　upon　him；　and　nothing　else　was　busied　about。　　Cap…popping　was　winged；　and　ballad…singing　dead。　The　piano　in　Bezuquet's　shop　mouldered　away　under　a　green　fungus；　and　the　Spanish　flies　dried　upon　it；　belly　up。　　Tartarin's　expedition　had　a　put　a　stopper　on　everything。

Ah；　you　ought　to　have　seen　his　a　success　in　the　parlours。　He　was　snatched　away　by　one　from　another；　fought　for；　loaned　and　borrowed；　ay；　stolen。　　There　was　a　no　greater　honour　for　the　ladies　than　to　go　to　Mitaine's　Menagerie　on　Tartarin's　arms；　and　have　it　explained　before　the　lion's　den　how　such　large　game　are　hunted；　where　they　should　be　aimed　at；　at　how　many　paces　off；　if　the　accidents　were　numerous；　and　the　like　of　that。

　Tartarin　furnished　all　the　elucidation　desired。　　He　had　read　〃The　Life　of　a　Jules　Gerard；　the　Lion…Slayer；〃　and　had　lion…hunting　at　his　finger　ends；　as　if　he　had　been　through　it　himself。　　Hence　he　orated　upon　these　matters　with　great　eloquence。

But　where　he　shone　the　brightest　was　at　dinner　at　Chief　Judge　Ladeveze's；　or　brave　Commandant　Bravida's　（the　former　captain　　in　the　Army　Clothing　Factory；　you　will　keep　in　mind）；　when　coffee　came　in；　and　all　the　chairs　were　brought　up　closer　together；　whilst　they　chatted　of　his　future　hunts。

Thereupon；　his　elbow　on　the　cloth；　his　nose　over　his　Mocha；　our　hero　would　discourse　in　a　feeling　tone　of　all　the　dangers　awaiting　him　thereaway。　　He　spoke　of　the　long　moonless　night　lyings…in…　wait；　the　pestilential　fens；　the　rivers　envenomed　by　leaves　of　poison…plants；　the　deep　snow…drifts；　the　scorching　suns；　the　scorpions；　and　rains　of　grasshoppers；　he　also　descanted　on　the　peculiarities　of　the　great　lions　of　the　Atlas；　their　way　of　fighting；　their　phenomenal　vigour；　and　their　ferocity　in　the　mating　season。

Heating　with　his　own　recital；　he　would　rise　from　table；　bounding　to　the　middle　of　the　dining…room；　imitating　the　roar　of　a　lion　and　the　going　off　of　a　rifle　：　crack！　bang！　the　zizz　of　the　explosive　bullet　　gesticulating　and　roaring　about　till　he　had　overset　the　chairs。

Everybody　turned　pale　around　the　board：　the　gentlemen　looking　at　one　another　and　wagging　their　heads；　the　ladies　shutting　their　eyes　with　pretty　screams　of　fright；　the　elderly　men　combatively　brandishing　their　canes；　and；　in　the　side　apartments；　the　little　boys；　who　had　been　put　to　bed　betimes；　were　greatly　startled　by　the　sudden　outcries　and　imitated　gun…fire；　and　screamed　for　lights。　Meanwhile；　Tartarin　did　not　start。



XI。　〃Let's　have　it　out　with　swords　gentleman；　not　pins〃


A　DELICATE　question：　whether　Tartarin　really　had　any　intention　of　going；　and　one　which　the　historian　of　Tartarin　would　be　highly　embarrassed　to　answer。　　In　plain　words；　Mitaine's　Menagerie　had　left　Tarascon　over　three　months；　and　still　the　lion…slayer　had　not　started。　　After　all；　blinded　by　a　new　mirage；　our　candid　hero　may　have　imagined　in　perfectly　good　faith　that　he　had　gone　to　Algeria。　On　the　strength　of　having　related　his　future　hunts；　he　may　have　believed　he　had　performed　them　as　sincerely　as　he　fancied　he　had　hoisted　the　consular　flag　and　fired　on　the　Tartars；　zizz；　phit；　bang！　at　Shanghai。

Unfortunately；　granting　Tartarin　was　this　time　again　dupe　of　an　illusion；　his　fellow…townsfolk　were　not。　When；　after　the　quarter's　expectation；　they　perceived　that　the　hunter　had　not　packed　even　a　collar…box；　they　commenced　murmuring。

〃This　is　going　to　turn　out　like　the　Shanghai　expedition；〃　remarked　Costecalde；　smiling。

The　gunsmith's　comment　was　welcomed　all　over　town；　for　nobody　believed　any　longer　in　their　late　idol。　　The　simpletons　and　poltroons　　all　the　fellows　of　Bezuquet's　stamp；　whom　a　flea　would　put　to　flight；　and　who　could　not　fire　a　shot　without　closing　their　eyes　　were　conspicuously　pitiless。　　In　the　club…rooms　or　on　the　esplanade；　they　accosted　poor　Tartarin　with　bantering　mien：

〃And　furthermore；　when　is　that　trip　coming　off？〃

In　Costecalde's　shop；　his　opinions　gained　no　credence；　for　the　cap…　poppers　renounced　their　chief！

Next；　epigrams　dropped　into　the　affair。　Chief　Judge　Ladevese；　who　willingly　paid　court　in　his　leisure　hours　to　the　native　Muse；　composed　in　local　dialect　a　song　which　won　much　success。　　It　told　of　a　sportsman　called　〃Master　Gervais；〃　whose　dreaded　rifle　was　bound　to　exterminate　all　the　lions　in　Africa　to　the　very　last。　Unluckily；　this　terrible　gun　was　of　a　strange　kind：　〃though　loaded　daily；　it　never　went　off。〃

〃It　never　went　off〃　　you　will　catch　the　drift。

In　less　than　no　time；　this　ditty　became　popular；　and　when　Tartarin　came　by；　the　longshoremen　and　the　little　shoeblacks　before　his　door　sang　in　chorus　

Muster　Jarvey's　roifle　Allus　gittin'　chaarged；　Muster　Jarvey's　roifle　'il　hev　to　git　enlaarged；　Muster　Jarvey's　roifle's　Loaded　oft　　don't　scoff；　Muster　Jarvey's　roifle　Nivver　do　go　off！〃

But　it　was　shouted　out　from　a　safe　distance；　on　account　of　the　double　muscles。

Oh；　the　fragility　of　Tarascon's　fads！

The　great　object　himself　feigned　to　see　and　hear　nothing；　but；　under　the　surface；　this　sullen　and　venomous　petty　warfare　much　afflicted　him。　　He　felt　aware　that　Tarascon　was　slipping　out　of　his　grip；　and　that　popular　favour　was　going　to　others；　and　this　made　him　suffer　horribly。

Ah；　the　huge　bowl　of　popularity！　it's　all　very　well　to