Elsewhere, there are cheers, laughter and stamping of feet, a
merchant and his mule have fallen into the river and are in danger of
drowning.... There are scorpions, crows, dogs and flies, millions of
flies, but no camels.

Eventually a camel was discovered which some nomads were trying to
dispose of. This was a real desert camel, with little hair, a sad
expression and a hump which through long shortage of fodder hung
flaccidly to one side. Tartarin was so taken with it that he wanted the
two partners to be mounted. This proved to be a mistake.

The camel knelt, the trunks were strapped on, the prince installed
himself on the creature's neck and Tartarin was hoisted up to the top of
the hump, between two cases, from where he proudly saluted the assembled
market and gave the signal for departure.... Heavens above!.... If only
Tarascon could see him now!

The camel rose, stretched out its long legs and took off. Calamity! The
camel pitched and rolled like a frigate in a rough sea and the chechia
responded to the motion as it had on the Zouave. "Prince... prince"
Murmured Tartarin, ashen-faced, and clutching the scanty hair of the
hump, "Prince... let us get down, I feel... I feel I am going to disgrace
France." But the camel was in full flight and nothing was going to
stop it. Four thousand Arabs were running behind, bare-footed, waving,
laughing like idiots, six hundred thousand white teeth glistening in
the sun.... The great man of Tarascon had to resign himself to the
inevitable, and France was disgraced.