Chapter 16.

He was in a vast, wild desert, bristling with bizarre plants. African
plants, which have the appearance of savage animals. In the faint light
from the stars their shadows spread over the ground in all directions.
On the right was the confused, looming mass of a mountain, the Atlas
perhaps, to the left could be heard the dull surge of the invisible sea.
An ideal spot to tempt wild animals!

Placing one rifle on the ground before him and taking the other in his
hands, Tartarin settled down and waited... he waited for an hour... two
hours.... Then he remembered that in his books the famous lion hunters
always used a kid as bait, which they tethered at some distance in front
of them and made to bleat by pulling on a string attached to its leg.
Lacking a kid, he had the idea of trying an imitation and began to bleat
in a goat-like manner, "Mé!... Mé!...." At first very quietly, because, in
the depths of his heart he was a little afraid that the lion might
hear him... then seeing that nothing happened he bleated more loudly,
"Mé!... Mé!... Mé!...." And then louder still, "MÉ!... MÉ!... MÉ!..."

Suddenly, a few paces in front of him, something black and gigantic
materialised. He shut up... the thing crouched, sniffed the ground,
leapt up, turned and ran off at a gallop... then it came back and stopped
short. It was a lion! There could be no doubt. Now one could see quite
clearly the four short legs, the formidable forequarters and two
huge eyes gleaming in the darkness.... Aim!... Fire!...
Pan!... Pan!.... Tartarin backed away, drawing his hunting knife

Following Tartarin's shot there was a terrible outcry, "I've got him!"
Cried the good Tarasconais and prepared himself to receive a possible