For it never could occur to him that anything but lions were objects
of the chase in Algeria. For all that, these Nimrods wore such
complacent phizzes of retired tradesmen, and their style of lion-
hunting with dogs and game-bags was so patriarchal, that the
Tarasconian, a little perplexed, deemed it incumbent to question
one of the gentlemen.

"And furthermore, comrade, is the sport good?"

"Not bad," responded the other, regarding the speaker's imposing
warlike equipment with a scared eye.

"Killed any?"

"Rather! Not so bad -- only look." Whereupon the Algerian
sportsman showed that it was rabbits and woodcock stuffing out
the bag.

"What! do you call that your bag? Do you put such-like in your
bag?"

"Where else should I put 'em?"

"But it's such little game."

"Some run small and some run large," observed the hunter.

In haste to catch up with his companions, he joined them with
several long strides. The dauntless Tartarin remained rooted in the
middle of the road with stupefaction. "Pooh!" he ejaculated, after a