st novelty。 The door suddenly flew open； and in rushed a bewildered cap…popper； howling 〃A lion； a lion ！〃 General was the alarm； stupor； uproar and tumult。 Tartarin prepared to resist cavalry with the bayonet； whilst Costecalde ran to shut the door。 The sportsman was surrounded and pressed and questioned； and here follows what he told them： Mitaine's Menagerie； returning from Beaucaire Fair； had consented to stay over a few days at Tarascon； and was just unpacking； to set up the show on the Castle…green； with a lot of boas； seals； crocodiles； and a magnificent lion from the Atlas Mountains。
An African lion in Tarascon？
Never in the memory of living man had the like been seen。 Hence our dauntless cap…poppers looked at one another how proudly ！ What a beaming on their sunburned visages！ and in every nook of Costecalde's shop what hearty congratulatory grips of the hand were silently exchanged！ The sensation was so great and unforeseen that nobody could find a word to say…not even Tartarin。
Blanched and agitated； with the needle…gun still in his fist； he brooded； erect before the counter。 A lion from the Atlas Range at pistol range from him； a couple of strides off？ a lion； mind youthe beast heroic and ferocious above all others； the King of the Brute Creation； the crowning game of his fancies； something like the leading actor in the ideal company which played such splendid tragedies in his mind's eye。 A lion； heaven be thanked！ and from the Atlas； to boot！ It was more than the great Tartarin could bear。
Suddenly a flush of blood flew into his face。 His eyes flashed。 With one convulsive movement he shouldered the needle…gun； and turning towards the brave Commandant Bravida （formerly captain in the Army Clothing Department； please to remember）； he thundered to him
〃Let's go have a look at him； commandant。〃
〃Here； here； I say！ that's my gun my needle…gun you are carrying off；〃 timidly ventured the wary Costecalde； but Tartarin had already got round the corner； with all the cap…poppers proudly lock… stepping behind him。
When they arrived at the menagerie； they found a goodly number of people there。 Tarascon； heroic but too long deprived of sensational shows； had rushed upon Mitaine's portable theatre； and bad taken it by storm。 Hence the voluminous Madame Mitaine was highly contented。 In an Arab costume； her arms bare to the elbow； iron anklets on； a whip in one hand and a plucked though live pullet in the other； the noted lady was doing the honours of the booth to the Tarasconians； and； as she also had 〃double muscles；〃 her success was almost as great as her animals。
The entrance of Tartarin with the gun on his shoulder was a damper。
All our good Tarasconians； who had been quite tranquilly strolling before the cages； unarmed and with no distrust； without even any idea of danger； felt momentary apprehension； naturally enough； on beholding their mighty Tartarin rush into the enclosure with his formidable engine of war。 There must be something to fear when a hero like he was； came weaponed； so； in a twinkling； all the space along the cage fronts was cleared。 The youngsters burst out squalling for fear； and the women looked round for the nearest way out。 The chemist Bezuquet made off altogether； alleging that he was going home for his gun。
Gradually； however； Tartarin's bearing restored courage。 With head erect； the intrepid Tarasconian slowly and calmly made the circuit of the booth； passing the seal's tank without stopping； glancing disdainfully on the long box filled with sawdust in which the boa would digest its raw fowl； and going to take his stand before the lion's cage。
A terrible and solemn confrontation； this！ The lion of Tarascon and the lion of Africa face to face！
On the one part； Tartarin erect； with his hamstrings in tension； and his arms folded on his gun barrel； on the other； the lion； a gigantic specimen； humped up in the straw； with blinking orbs and brutish mien； resting his huge muzzle and tawny full…bottomed wig on his forepaws。 Both calm in their gaze。
Singular thing！ whether the needle…gun had given him 〃 the needle；〃 if the popular idiom is admissible； or that he scented an enemy of his race； the lion； who had hitherto regarded the Tarasconians with sovereign scorn； and yawned in their faces； was all at once affected by ire。 At first he sniffed； then he growled hollowly； stretching out his claws； rising； he tossed his head。； shook his mane； opened a capacious maw； and belched a deafening roar at Tartarin。
A yell of fright responded； as Tarascon precipitated itself madly towards the exit； women and children； lightermen； cap…poppers； even the brave Commandant Bravida himself。 But； alone； Tartarin of Tarascon had not budged。 There he stood； firm and resolute； before the cage； lightnings in his eyes； and on his lip that gruesome grin with which all the town was familiar。 In a moment's time； when all the cap…poppers； some little fortified by his hearing and the strength of the bars； re…approached their leader； they heard him mutter； as he stared Leo out of countenance ：
〃Now； this is something like a hunt！〃
All the rest of that day； never a word farther could they draw from Tartarin of Tarascon。
IX。 Singular effects of Mental Mirage。
CONFINING his remarks to the sentence last recorded； Tartarin had unfortunately still said overmuch。
On the morrow； there was nothing talked about through town but the near…at…hand departure of Tartarin for Algeria and lion…hunting。 You are all witness； dear readers； that the honest fellow had not breathed a word on that head； but； you know； the mirage had its usual effect。 In brief； all Tarascon spoke of nothing but the departure。
On the Old Walk； at the club； in Costecalde's； friends accosted one another with a startled aspect：
〃And furthermore； you know the news； at least？ 〃
〃And furthermore； rather？ Tartarin's setting out； at least？〃
For at Tarascon all phrases begin with 〃and furthermore；〃 and conclude with 〃at least；〃 with a strong local accent Hence； on this occasion more than upon others； these 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 fung