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THE FIRE OF DESERT FOLK

her all his love and favor, and for this the abandoned mate of earlier years is taking her revenge.

But my kodak was quite indifferent to the underlying reasons for such an unusual scene and was already prepared to immortalize this strife in the records of the age, holding there the vicious, black face of the old hag beside the bloody breasts and the terrified eyes of the young ebony beauty, when suddenly the whole operation was interrupted by a short, guttural exclamation that came from behind me. Involuntarily I swung round and faced a black man, sporting an old spahi's vest with brass buttons, wearing a big turban and leading a donkey, evidently just returning from town. The expression on his face left no doubt that he was angry with me for wishing to "steal the souls" of those In his village, yet it did not frighten away my intention to accomplish the theft. But, alas! It was too late, for I turned back only in time to catch a glimpse of the bright dresses of the women disappearing around a turn in the path and to hear the soft patting of their bare feet.

"You vagabond!" I thought angrily of the intruder and swung round to snap him as my only revenge.

As we continued our way, I soon forgot about the unsuccessful kodak hunt under the spell of a change so sudden and so picturesque that It seemed as though we had been transported to another latitude. High walls of luxuriant, really tropical vegetation flanked and arched the road, covering it with a deep shade and swathing it in refreshing coolness. Immense bushes of hawthorne, tamarisk, lilac and jasmine mingled with olive-trees, fig-