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第18章

tartarin of tarascon-第18章

小说: tartarin of tarascon 字数: 每页4000字

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In one corner; under a tent patched with a thousand colours; a Moorish clerk of the market in spectacles scrawled in a large book。 Here was a cluster of men shouting with rage: it was a spinning… jenny game; set on a corn…measure; and Kabyles were ready to cut one another's throats over it。  Yonder were laughs and contortions of delight: it was a Jew trader on a mule drowning in the Shelliff。 Then there were dogs; scorpions; ravens; and flies  rather flies than anything else。

But a plentiful lack of camels abounded。 They finally unearthed one; though; of which the M'zabites were trying to get rid  the real ship of the desert; the classical; standard camel; bald; woe… begone; with a long Bedouin head; and its hump; become limp in consequence of unduly long fasts; hanging melancholically on one side。

Tartarin considered it so handsome that he wanted the entire party to get upon it。 Still his Oriental craze!

The beast knelt down for them to strap on the boxes

The prince enthroned himself on the animal's neck。  For the sake of the greater majesty; Tartarin got them to hoist him on the top of the hump between two boxes; where; proud; and cosily settled down; he saluted the whole market with a lofty wave of the hand; and gave the signal of departure。

Thunderation! if the people of Tarascon could only have seen him!

The camel rose; straightened up its long knotty legs; and stepped out。

Oh; stupor!  At the end of a few strides Tartarin felt he was losing colour; and the heroic chechia assumed one by one its former positions in the days of sailing in the Zouave。 This devil's own camel pitched and tossed like a frigate。

〃Prance! prance!〃 〃 gasped Tartarin pallid as a ghost; as he clung to the dry tuft of the hump; 〃prance; let's get down。 I find  I feel that I m…m…must get off; or I shall disgrace France。〃

A deal of good that talk was  the camel was on the go; and nothing could stop it。 Behind it raced four thousand barefooted Arabs; waving their hands and laughing like mad; so that they made six hundred thousand white teeth glitter in the sun。

The great man of Tarascon had to resign himself to circumstances。 He sadly collapsed on the hump; where the fez took all the positions it fancied; and France was disgraced。



V。 The Night…watch in a Poison…tree Grove。


SWEETLY picturesque as was their new steed; our lion…hunters had to give it up; purely out of consideration for the red cap; of course。  So they continued the journey on foot as before; the caravan tranquilly proceeding southwardly by short stages; the Tarasconian in the van; the Montenegrin in the rear; and the camel; with the weapons in their cases; in the ranks。

The expedition lasted nearly a month。

During that seeking for lions which he never found; the dreadful Tartarin roamed from douar to douar on the immense plain of the Shelliff; through the odd but formidable French Algeria; where the old Oriental perfumes are complicated by a strong blend of absinthe and the barracks; Abraham and 〃the Zouzou〃 mingled; something fairy…tale…like and simply burlesque; like a page of the Old Testament related by Tommy Atkins。

A curious sight for those who have eyes that can see。

A wild and corrupted people whom we are civilising by teaching them our vices。  The ferocious and uncontrolled authority of grotesque bashaws; who gravely use their grand cordons of the Legion of Honour as handkerchiefs; and for a mere yea or nay order a man to be bastinadoed。  It is the justice of the conscienceless; bespectacled cadis under the palm…tree; Maw… worms of the Koran and Law; who dream languidly of promotion and sell their decrees; as Esau did his birthright; for a dish of lentils or sweetened kouskous。  Drunken and libertine cadis are they; formerly servants to some General Yusuf or the like; who get intoxicated on champagne; along with laundresses from Port Mahon; and fatten on roast mutton; whilst before their tents the whole tribe waste away with hunger; and fight with the harriers for the bones of the lordly feast。

All around spread the plains in waste; burnt grass; leafless shrubs; thickets of cactus and mastic  〃the Granary of France!〃  a granary void of grain; alas! and rich alone in vermin and jackals。 Abandoned camps; frightened tribes fleeing from them and famine; they know not whither; and strewing the road with corpses。  At long intervals French villages; with the dwellings in ruins; the fields untilled; the maddened locusts gnawing even the window…blinds; and all the settlers in the drinking…places; absorbing absinthe and discussing projects of reform and the Constitution。

This is what Tartarin might have seen had he given himself the trouble; but; wrapped up entirely in his leonine…hunger; the son of Tarascon went straight on; looking to neither right nor left; his eyes steadfastly fixed on the imaginary monsters which never really appeared。

As the shelter…tent was stubborn in not unfolding; and the compressed meat…cakes would not dissolve; the caravan was obliged to stop; morn and eve; at tribal camps。 Everywhere; thanks to the gorgeous cap of Prince Gregory; our hunters were welcomed with open arms。 They lodged in the aghas' odd palaces; large white windowless farmhouses; where they found; pell…mell; narghilehs and mahogany furniture; Smyrna carpets and moderator lamps; cedar coffers full of Turkish sequins; and French statuette…decked clocks in the Louis Philippe style。

Everywhere; too; Tartarin was given splendrous galas; diffas; and fantasias; which; being interpreted; mean feasts and circuses。 In his honour whole goums blazed away powder; and floated their burnouses in the sun。 When the powder was burnt; the agha would come and hand in his bill。 This is what is called Arab hospitality。

But always no lions; no more than on London Bridge。

Nevertheless; the Tarasconian did not grow disheartened。  Ever bravely diving more deeply into the South; he spent the days in beating up the thickets; probing the dwarf…palms with the muzzle of his rifle; and saying 〃Boh!〃 to every bush  And every evening; before lying down; he went into ambush for two or three hours。 Useless trouble; however; for the lion did not show himself。

One evening; though; going on six o'clock; as the caravan scrambled through a violet…hued mastic…grove; where fat quails tumbled about in the grass; drowsy through the heat; Tartarin of Tarascon fancied he heard though afar and very vague; and thinned down by the breeze  that wondrous roaring to which he had so often listened by Mitaine's Menagerie at home。

At first the hero feared he was dreaming; but in an instant further the roaring recommenced more distinct; although yet remote; and this time the camel's hump shivered in terror; and made the tinned meats and arms in the cases rattle; whilst all the dogs in the camps were heard howling in every corner of the horizon。

Beyond doubt this was the lion。

Quick; quick! to the ambush。  There was not a minute to lose。

Near at hand there happened to be an old marabout's; or saint's; tomb; with a white cupola; and the defunct's large yellow slippers placed in a niche over the door; and a mass of odd offerings  hems of blankets; gold thread; red hair  hung on the wall。

Tartarin of Tarascon left his prince and his camel and went in search of a good spot for lying in wait。  Prince Gregory wanted to follow him; but the Tarasconian refused; bent on confronting Leo alone。  But still he besought His Highness not to go too far away; and; as a measure of foresight; he entrusted him with his pocket… book; a good…sized one; full of precious papers and bank…notes; which he feared would get torn by the lion's claws。 This done; our hero looked up a good place。

A hundred steps in front of the temple a little clump of rose…laurel shook in the twilight haze on the edge of a rivulet all but dried up。 There it was that Tartarin went and ensconced himself; one knee on the ground; according to the regular rule; his rifle in his hand; and his huge hunting…knife stuck boldly before him in the sandy bank。

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

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