Adventure, December 1914 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

8 Adventure “‘Sefiora Ruiz,” he replied briefly, ‘‘one of our best dancers.”’ something fascinating about the woman. From the snap of her black eyes to the vibrating grace of her shapely ankle there was something that stamped her as unique. She seemed to realize the power nature had given her over the passions of men, to have the keen wit to play them off, and the joy of living to appreciate the dramas which were enacted. She began with the danza de sombrero. A sombrero was placed on the floor and she danced about it, in and out, now drawing near and now gliding away without touch- ing it. There was something fascinating, not so much about the dance as about the dancer, for the dance itself was intermina- ble, monotonous. Several times I saw that Kennedy had caught her eye, and when at last the dance ended she contrived to finish close to our table, so close that it was but a turn, an ex- change of looks, a word or two, and, as cabaret dancers will, she was sitting at our table a moment later and Kennedy was or- dering something. . The Sefiora spoke very good English an French, and the conversation glided along like a dance from one subject to another, for she had danced her way into almost every quarter of the gay world of America and Europe. It was not long before Kennedy and she were discussing Mexican dances and some- how or other those of the south of Mexico were mentioned. The orchestra, mean- while, had burst forth into a tango, fol- lowed by a maxixe, and many of the habi- tués of the cabaret were now themselves dancing. “The Zapotecs,” remarked Kennedy, “have a number of strange dances. There is one called the Devil Dance that I have often wished to see.”’ “The Devil Dance?” she repeated. ‘‘That usually takes place on feast-days of the saints. I have seen it often. On those oc- casions some of the dancers have their bod- ies painted to represent skeletons, and they also wear strange, feathered head-dresses.”’ The waiter responded with our order. “The Zapotec ballroom,’”’ she continued reminiscently, “‘is an open space near a vil- lage, and there the dance goes on by the light of a blazing fire. The dancers, men and women, are dressed in all kinds of fan- _ tastic costumes.” We watched her intently. There was So from dancing the conversation drifted along to one topic after another, Kennedy showing a marvelous knowledge of things Mexican, mostly, I suspected, second-hand, for he had a sort of skill in such a situation of confining the subjects, if he chose, to those on which he was already somewhat acquainted. ‘‘Sefiora,”’ called a voice from the other table at which she had been sitting. She turned with a gay smile. Evidently the party of friends were eager to have her back. Some words passed, and in a few moments we found ourselves at the other table with the rest of Sefiora Ruiz’s friends. No one seemed to think it strange in this Bohemian atmosphere that two newcomers should be added to the party. In fact, I rather sus- pected that they welcomed us as possibly lightening the load of paying the checks which the waiters brought for various things ordered, none of which were exactly reasonable in price. ? (77m) AMONG others whom we met was Py. | an American, a Western mining- ZL\ woman whom all seemed to know as Hattie Hawley. She was of the breezy type that the West has produced, inter- ested in Mexican affairs through hav- ing purchased an interest in some mines in the southern part of the country, and seemed to be thoroughly acquainted with the methods of Wall Street in exploiting mines. It was a rapid-fire conversation that they carried on, and I kept silent for the most part, fearing that I might say the wrong thing, and following Kennedy’s lead as much as possible. Mrs. Hawley happened to be sitting next to Kennedy, and as the talk turned on the situation in the country in which all seemed to be interested in some way, Kennedy ven- tured to her— “Do you know Colonel Sinclair?” “‘T should say I do,” she replied frankly. “Why, it was only a few days ago that he came in here and we were all sitting at this very table discussing the situation down in Oaxaca. You know, I’m interested in some mines near Colonel Sinclair’s, and in the same railroad through the region which he controls.”’ MICLOOOK C©