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This man, behold, Pisander of Corinth, of all the ancient makers was the first who wrote of the son of Zeus, the lion-slayer, the ready of hand, and spake of all the adventures that with toil he achieved. Know this therefore, that the people set him here, a statue of bronze, when many months had gone by and many years. XXI The Grave of Hipponax. Here lies the poet Hipponax!
It was wrapped up in a piece of the Marseilles Semaphore newspaper. On flattening it out, the name of his native place struck his eyes. "Our Tarascon correspondent writes: "The city is in distress. There has been no news for several months from Tartarin the lion-slayer, who set off to hunt the great feline tribe in Africa. What can have become of our heroic fellow-countryman?
The Lion-Slayer in S. Africa asserts it to be the belief of Hottentots and the interior tribes, that the bird often lures the unwary pursuer to danger, sometimes guiding him to the midday retreat of a grizzly lion, or bringing him suddenly upon the den of the crouching panther.
He had hoped to slink home unobserved; but, to his amazement, he is received with shouts of "Long live Tartarin!" "Three cheers for the lion-slayer!" The people are waving their caps in the air; it is no joke, they are serious. There is Major Bravida, and there the more noteworthy cap-hunters, who cluster round their chief and carry him in triumph down the stairs.
Harley, in turn, addressed him as: Man-Dog, Incorruptible One, Brass Tacks, Then Some, Sin of Gold, South Sea Satrap, Nimrod, Young Nick, and Lion-Slayer. In brief, the man and woman competed with each other to name him most without naming him ever the same.
He had read "The Life of 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. 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.
In uttering these words the dauntless son of Tarascon shook the blue tassel of his fez like a mane. Through the vehicle was a spell of stupefaction. The Trappist brother crossed himself, the dubious women uttered little screams of affright, and the Orleansville photographer bent over towards the lion-slayer, already cherishing the unequalled honour of taking his likeness.
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.
What kind of a triumphal entry would he make? Good heavens! not a sou, not a lion, nothing to show for it save a camel! "Tarascon! Tarascon!" He was obliged to get down. O amazement! Scarce had the hero's red fez popped out of the doorway before a loud shout of "Tartarin for ever!" made the glazed roof of the railway station tremble. "Long life to Tartarin, the lion-slayer!"
Doubtless this lion-slayer of Shitan, being famished, will not forget our prophecy, and ascribing its fulfilment to our bad omens, will, in his mood, sacrifice us to his empty stomach. "Your wisdom is great, Giaffar," replied the caliph; "the man is truly a savage, and doubtless will rage with hunger, nevertheless, we will go and see in what state he may be."
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