Already the houses were becoming more scattered, the passers-by less frequent. Night was falling. Objects becoming less distinct.... He marched on for another half an hour, and then he stopped. It was now completely dark, a moonless night spangled with stars. There was no one on the road, but in spite of that Tartarin reckoned that lions were not like coaches and would not stick to the highway. He set off across country. At every step there were ditches, thorns and bushes. No matter, he walked on until at last he reached a spot he thought suited to his purpose. A likely place for lions. 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