First, he ordered from Blompard two large cases lined with copper and with a large plaque inscribed TARTARIN DE TARASCON. FIREARMS. The lining and the engraving took a long time. He ordered from M. Tastevin a magnificent log-book in which to write his journal. Then he sent to Marseille for a whole cargo of preserved food, for pemmican tablets to make soup, for a bivouac tent of the latest design, which could be erected or struck in a few minutes, a pair of sea-boots, two umbrellas, a waterproof and a pair of dark glasses to protect his eyes. Finally, Bezuquet the chemist made up a medicine chest full of sticking plaster, pills and lotions. All these preparations were made in the hope that by these and other delicate attentions he could appease the fury of Tartarin-Sancho, which, since the departure had been decided, had raged unabated by day and by night. Chapter 10. At last the great day arrived. From first light the whole of Terascon was afoot, blocking the Avignon road and the approaches to the little house of the baobab. There were people at windows, on roofs, up trees. Bargees from the Rhône, stevedores, boot-blacks, clerks, weavers, the club members, in fact the whole town. Then there were people from Beaucaire who had come across the bridge, market-gardeners from the suburbs, carts with big hoods, vignerons mounted on fine mules ornamented with ribbons, tassels, bows and bells, and even here and there some pretty girls from Arles, with blue kerchiefs round their heads, riding on the crupper behind their sweethearts on the small iron-grey horses of the Camargue. All this crowd pushed and jostled before Tartarin’s gate, the gate of this fine M. Tartarin who was going to kill lions in the country of the “Teurs”. (In Tarascon: Africa, Greece, Turkey and Mesopotamia formed a vast, vague almost mythical country which was called the Teurs... that is the Turks). Throughout this mob the hat shooters came and went, proud of the triumph of their leader, and leaving in their wake, as it were, little trails of glory. In front of the house of the baobab there were two large handcarts. From time to time the gate was opened and one could see men walking busily about in the garden. They carried out trunks, cases and carpet-bags which they piled onto the carts. On the arrival of each new package the crowd stirred and a description of the article was shouted out. “That’s his tent! There’s the preserved foods! The medicine chest! The arms chest!” While the hat shooters gave a running commentary. Suddenly, at about ten o’clock, there was a great movement in the crowd. The garden gate swung back violently on its hinges.... “It’s him!.... Its him!” they cried.