“An indispensable form of headgear for the traveller in Africa.”  The prince replied gravely; and while polishing the peak on his coat-sleeve he instructed his innocent companion on the important role played by the kepi in colonial administration, and the deference which its appearance inspires.  This to such an extent that the government has been obliged to issue kepis to everyone from the canteen worker to the registrar-general.  In fact, according to the prince, to govern the country there was no necessity for an elaborate regime.  All that was needed was a fine gold-braided kepi glittering on the end of a big stick.

Thus conversing and philosophising, they went there way.  The bare-footed porters leapt from rock to rock, shouting and chattering.  The armaments rattled in their case.  The guns glittered in the sun..  The locals who passed bowed deeply before the magical kepi....  Up on the ramparts of Milianah, the chief of the Arab bureau, who was walking with his lady in the cool of the morning, hearing these unusual noises and seeing between the branches the flash of sunlight on the weapons, feared a surprise attack; whereupon he lowered the portcullis, beat the alarm and put the town in a state of siege.

This was a good start to the expedition.  Regrettably, before the end of the day, the situation deteriorated.  One of the negroes was taken with the most fearful colic, having eaten the plasters in the medicine chest.  Another fell, dead drunk, by the wayside, as a result of swigging spirits of camphor.  A third, in charge of the log-book, deceived by the gold lettering on the cover, thought he had hold of the treasures of Mecca and made off with it at top speed....  Clearly some planning was needed, so the party halted and took council in the shade of an old fig tree.  “In my opinion” Said the prince, trying unsuccessfully to dissolve a tablet of pemmican in a cooking pot, “In my opinion, after this evening we should get rid of these negro porters.  There is an Arab market near here and our best plan would be to go there and buy some bourriquots.”  “No!...  No!...  No bourriquots!” Interrupted Tartarin, who had become very red at the memory of Noiraud, adding hypocritically, “How can these little creatures carry all our equipment?”

The prince smiled, “You are mistaken my illustrious friend,” He said, “The bourriquot may seem to you a poor weak creature, but it has a great heart...  It needs it to support all it has to bear... ask the Arabs.  This is their idea of our administration.  On top they say, is the governor with a big stick which he uses to thump his staff.  The staff in turn thump the soldiers.  The soldiers thump the colonist.  The colonist thumps the Arab, the Arab the negro, and the Negro thumps the bourriquot.  The poor little bourriquot having no one to thump, bares its back and puts up with it.  So you can see it is well able to carry all our gear.”

“That’s all very well.”  Replied Tartarin, “But I don’t think that donkeys add much colour to the general appearance of our caravan.  Now if we could have a camel...!”