a shirt of coarse linen, a
frock of many-colored material, and a belt around her waist. Her
beautifully formed bosom, covered only by the shirt, rose and fell in
goddesslike shamelessness. A string of glass beads hung round her
neck, and two long earrings tapped her cheeks at every movement. She
made no effort to hide her bare feet, but now and then put back her
untidy but beautiful black hair from her forehead and eyes; for it was
so thick that if she did not do so she could not see.

The girl felt that the Captain's fiery gaze was meant for her and not
for the little bear. She became embarrassed, and instinctively turned
her head away. Just at this moment Joco turned round with Ibrahim. The
tall Servian peasant let the whistle fall from his hand, and the wild
dance came to an end. Ibrahim understood that the performance was
over, and, putting down his front paws on the ground, licked, as he
panted, the strong iron bars of his muzzle.

The Captain and Joco looked at each other. The powerful young
bear-leader was as pale as death. He trembled as if something terrible
had befallen him. Captain Winter looked at him searchingly. Where, he
asked himself, had he met this man?

The villagers did not understand what was going on, and began to
shout, "Zorka! Now, Zorka, it is your turn with Mariska." The cries of
the villagers brought Joco to himself, and with a motion worthy of a
player he roused the little bear to its feet. Then he made signs to
the girl. Being too excited to blow his whistle, he started singing
and beating the drum; but his voice trembled so much that by and by he
left off singing and let the girl go through her performance alone.

Then the Captain saw something that wrought him up to ecstasy. Zorka
was singing a sad Bosnian song in her tender, crooning voice, and
dancing with graceful steps round the little bear, who, to tell the
truth, also danced more lightly than the heavy Ibrahim, and was very
amusing when he lifted his paw to his head as Hungarians do when they
are in high spirits and break forth in hurrahs.

Captain Winter, however, saw nothing but the fair maid, whose pearly
white teeth shone out from between her red lips. He felt he would like
to slip a silk ribbon round her waist, which swayed as lightly as a
reed waving to and fro in the wind, and lead her off as if she were a
beautiful colored butterfly.

Zorka grew tired of the sad, melancholy song, and began to dance
wildly and passionat