against the other, like a pile of white washing laid out on a river
bank. Up above a great sky of satin blue... but oh!... So blue!

Tartarin, somewhat recovered from his fright, gazed at the landscape,
while listening respectfully to the Montenegrin prince, who standing
beside him, pointed out the different quarters of the town. The Casbah,
the upper town, the Rue Bab-Azoum. Very well educated this prince of
Montenegro. What is more he knew Algiers well and spoke Arabic. Tartarin
had decided to cultivate his acquaintance when suddenly, along the rail
on which they were leaning, he saw a row of big black hands grasping it
from below. Almost immediately a curly black head appeared in front of
him and before he could open his mouth the deck was invaded from all
side by a swarm of pirates; black, yellow, half naked, hideous and
terrible. Tartarin knew at once that it was "Them" The fearsome "Them"
who he had so often expected at night in the streets of Tarascon. Now
they had arrived.

At first surprise glued him to the spot, but when he saw the pirates
hurl themselves on the baggage, tear off the tarpaulin covers and begin
to pillage the ship, our hero came to life. Drawing his hunting knife
and shouting "Aux armes!... Aux armes!" To his fellow passengers, he
prepared to lead an assault on the raiders. "Ques aco?... What's the
matter with you?" Said Captain Barbassou as he came off the bridge.
"Ah!... There you are Captain.... Quick! Quick! Arm your men!" "Hé!... Do
what? Why for God's sake?" "But don't you see?" "See what?" "There,
in front of you... the pirates!" Captain Barbassou regarded him with
astonishment..... At that moment a huge monster of a black man ran past
carrying the medicine chest. "Wretch! Wait till I catch you!" Yelled
Tartarin, starting forward with his knife held aloft. Barbassou caught
him and held him by his sash. "Calm down for Chrissake." He said,