The dance over, there was a wild scrambling among the dancers to get the coins that were tossed to them by the spectators. The last coin tossed and picked up; the last dancer aided from the scene by a prod of a booted foot, a man stepped into the circle and in a loud voice proclaimed,
“You are now going to witness the ‘Dance of the Vampire’ by the Europeanized Desert Flower. This young siren has been proclaimed by the art judges of Europe to be one of the most lovely women on earth. Her beauty is beyond words and her dance extraordinary! But judge for yourself! Behold Sana, our Desert Flower. None can rival her. Not even the beauties of the harem!”
Musing to himself, Carl muttered, “If I were not in Africa I should swear I was at Coney Island.”
The eyes of the audience are turned toward a tent near the dancing space. There is a low rumble from the tom-toms of the native orchestra. The flaps of the tent are pushed aside and a young woman steps out. For a moment she stands there, looking over the crowd as if in defiance. Then with a graceful movement of her arms she casts aside the native shawl in which she is wrapped.
The spectators stir in their chairs. From all sides come the “ahs” of expectant watchers. Carl, too, is visibly affected. The “barker” was right. The woman, whoever she was, could take a beauty prize anywhere.
The music grows louder while the dancer with fleet steps, hurries to the middle of the arena to commence her dance.
Carl notes her costume. About her brow is bound a strand of flashing gems. Her body is bare, covered only by a pair of violet colored breast shields, richly embroidered with a bluebird design of beads; short satin tights, slashed at the sides, and also of violet hue. These are augmented by a string of pearls, hanging from her neck holding the breast shield in place. Yet there was nothing indelicate about this scanty costume. Carl recalled that he had seen many in France that were shocking when compared to this. Here was beauty and harmony. It was not the costume but the girl whose beauties it revealed that made it a wonderful picture.
There were dangerous curves ahead, Carl mused, for those of the men in the audience who were so inclined. The women, he felt sure, would appear to be unaware of her beauties, but would, nevertheless, make comparisons in their own minds.
To Carl, however, no sensual thoughts occurred. To him the girl was an object of art. With a connoisseur’s eye for beauty he studied her from head to foot. Her height he judged to be about five feet five inches; her figure that of Venus de Medici. Having a good memory for figures he recalled that the dimensions of that statue were, bust and hips, 36 and 38 inches respectively; waist, 26 inches. The dancer’s back was long and slender, almost flat near the shoulders, but deeply curved at the waist. Her limbs were well rounded, soft and large at the hips, tapering down very gently toward small dimpled knees. From there they gracefully swelled to her calves and in exquisite proportion diminished gently to her finely rounded ankles and slender feet. Her smooth arms were softly molded from shoulder to wrist, with dimpled elbows like a baby’s. The small wrists with long slender hands and fingers were those of an aristocrat. Her entire body, he noted, scarcely revealed the existence of bone—in fact there were no sharp, thin or angular points to be seen. Indeed a veritable Venus!
Her soft skin, of fine texture, was uniformly tanned over her entire body, as if she were wont to take regular sun baths in Eve’s costume. Powder and rouge were conspicuous by their absence, her complexion being naturally healthy and full of bloom. A beautiful symmetrical face, with a delicate lower jaw, a small, distinctly curved, cupid’s bow mouth; a high finely arched brow added to the beauty of her sparkling eyes.