Levaillant could not have been happier than I was, after he had killed his first elephant on the banks of the Orange River.
My triumph was complete, for when I re-entered the house I found my brother-in-law just back from a tour of inspection.
I showed him my partridge, which had already made the acquaintance of half the town.
He made with the tip of his finger a cross on my forehead with my victim's blood.
"In the name of St. Hubert," he said, "I baptize thee a sportsman; and now that you are baptized—"
"What then?" I asked.
"Well, I invite you for next Sunday to a battue with M. Moquet of Brassoire."
I leapt for joy, for M. Moquet's battues were renowned throughout the department.
As many as forty or fifty hares were shot at a time.
"Oh! my child," murmured my mother,—"there is nothing he will like better!"