nd coshes. A grocer
bought the preserved food, a chemist what was left of the medicine
chest. Even the boots went, with the bivouac tent, into the hands of
a merchant of bric-a-brac. Once everything had been paid, Tartarin
was left with little but the lion-skin and the camel. The lion-skin he
packed up carefully and despatched to Tarascon, to the address of the
brave Commandant Bravida. As for the camel, he counted on it to get him
back to Algiers: not by riding it, but by selling it to raise the fare
for the stage-coach, which was at least better than camel-back. Sadly
the camel proved a difficult market, and no one offered to buy it at any
price.

Tartarin was determined to get back to Algiers, even if it meant
walking. He longed to see once more Baia's blue corslet, his house, his
fountain and to rest on the white tiles of his his little cloister while
he awaited money to be sent from France. In these circumstances
the camel did not desert him. This strange animal had developed an
inexplicable affection for its master, and seeing him set out from
Orleansville it followed him faithfully, regulating its pace to his and
not quitting him by as much as a footstep.

At first Tartarin found it touching. This fidelity, this unshakable
devotion seemed wholly admirable; besides which the beast was no trouble
and was able to find its own food. However, after a few days Tartarin
grew tired of having perpetually at his heels this melancholy companion,
who reminded him of all his misadventures. He began to be irritated.
He took a dislike to its air of sadness to its hump and its haughty
bearing. In he end he became so exasperated with it that his only wish
was to be rid of it; but the camel would not be dismissed. Tartarin
tried to lose it, but the camel always found him. He tried running
away, but the camel could run faster. He shouted "Clear off!" and threw
stones: the camel stopped and regarded him with a mournful expression,
then after a few moments it resumed its pace and caught up with him.
Tartarin had to resign himself to its company.

When, after eight days of walking, Tartarin, tired and dusty, saw
gleaming in the distance the white terraces of Algiers, when he found
himself on the outskirts of the town, on the bustling Mustapha road,
amid the crowds who watched him go by with the camel in attendance, his
patience snapped, and taking advantage of some traffic congestion he
ducked into a field and hid in a ditch. In a