The Ouled-Naïl, be it understood, are not common to Biskra alone, for they frequently make their way to Constantine and to Algiers, yes, and to Tunis in the east and to Tangier in the west, for they appear to be as popular with the Berbers and the Moors as with the Arabs. Though some of the younger ones are really pretty in a dark, barbaric fashion, with slim, supple bodies, hands and feet that are small and perfectly molded, piquant features, and eyes as large and lustrous as those of a gazelle, their beauty is evanescent, and by the time they have reached their early twenties they have become painted, leering harridans with mouths like steel traps and steely, calculating eyes. Yet, even after their youthful bloom has vanished, their dances continue to arouse the ardor of their native admirers, they are sometimes the objects of extraordinary munificence, and they often provoke furious jealousies which flare up in violent quarrels and not infrequently terminate in bloodshed and death. That is why the Rue Sainte echoes throughout the night to the measured tramp of _tirailleur_ patrols. The _cafés maures_ which are the scene of the Ouled-Naïl dances are for the most part resorts of the most unsavory description, low-ceilinged, dimly lighted, and foul with smoke. The dancers give their performance on a small raised platform to the shrill of reeds, the clash of cymbals, and the incessant throb of drums played by Arab or negro musicians who squat in a semicircle on the earthen floor. There is no fixed charge for admission, but during the frequent intermissions one of the music-makers, or, perhaps, a dancing-girl herself, will pass among the spectators soliciting contributions. In their dress, if in little else, the Ouled-Naïl have nothing in common with the Jewish and Moresque courtezans who on the stages of certain extremely disreputable dance-halls in the _kasbah_ quarter of Algiers prance in a state of almost complete nudity for the delectation of visitors from the tourist steamers. Their costumes would, on the contrary, be considered actually prudish by the patrons of the Winter Garden and the Vanities, for, barring the exposure of a narrow band of flesh around the waist, they are so completely enveloped in loose flowing garments that virtually nothing of their figures can be seen. Past mistresses in the art of seduction, they have learned that sexual passion is aroused by suggestion rather than by revelation. The excessive modesty of their costumes is more than counterbalanced, however, by the licentiousness of their dances, which are the very essence of Oriental depravity, an unrestrained appeal to sexual desire. Yet every night the dance-halls of the Rue Sainte are crowded to the doors with European tourists—sober, self-respecting business men, staid matrons, yes, and young, carefully reared girls who view the scene in embarrassed fascination, only half comprehending what the dances mean. * * * * *