TARACAS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3522, 13 September 1921, Page 58

TARACAS.

By Tjylss Rodgers

(Copyright.)

A blare of trumpets, a cracking of whips, an anticipatory thrill of excitement, and Rolando, king of the Prairies, boldest rider of the hemispheres, erect upon an Arab steed, /came gracefully careering into the ring. One united cheer from a thousand throats greeted his entry, assuring him of his. popularity and encouraging him to eclipse his own marvellous performances upon the back of the steed he knew so well, which loved him so faithfully. Around and around, one daring feat succeeded by another, one burst of applause followed by a louder. Fair ladies smiled graciously upon him, for the equestrian was lithe and supple, and of handsome features; not a man in the amphitheatre but envied him. There was one who loved him ; and she of all women in. that vast assembly seemed to have most right to claim the affection of such a man. For upon her, too, Nature had smiled. Her long raven tresses, when unbraided, hung almost to her feet; her eyes, at times softly seductive, at other bright and flashing, beauteons in their lurid intensity; her skin, smooth as velvet; a daughter of the South, a queen among women, Tarafas, “The Empress of Snakes,” betrothed to the only man worthy to be matched with such beauty, Rolando. She stood near a huge box containing the reptiles with which she performed, and watched with admiring eyes the man to whom she had yielded up her heart. He had concluded his appaling feat, and the crowd, breathless a moment before, was roaring forth its huzzas. Dainty handkerchiefs flashed a dazzle of whiteness, here and there a more than usually appreciative admirer rose and threw a souvenir—a cigar case, a match box, a pendant—at the impressario’s feet. Mexican audiences are not stinting in thier appreciation. Taracas watched her lover closely ns, standing upon the hack of his charger, he bowed his acknowledgments. But suddenly her brow darkened, and a look of jealous hate pilot into her deep black eyes. The action which had called forth this was one that would not have drawn observation from anyone else, merely a sign, the sign of a cross which with his riding-stock he carelessly made upon his breast. But she had seen that sign three nights in succession, and her jealous- eves had searched through the rank of the people until they had rested upon a woman, eloeelv veiled, vet not unlovely in figure. And twice Taracas had seen her repeat the sign. The collusion was too evident to be mistaken. Yet Taracas had not taxed Rolando with the matter. She desired to make more certain still. That night, as had happened before, the veiled woman left the theatre just as Taracas in her Egyptian costume entered the arena with her snakes. The action was not lost upon the charmer, and all through her performance she was racked with torture. The snakes writhed and twisted about her supple frame, but she scarcely heeded them. Her work was perfunctorily dune. It was only when Sirius, the most dangerous of the reptiles, whose fangs had never been removed, and in wlfe’se presence the bravest heart, save that of Taracas, might well quail, suddenly tightened his hold about her beautiful white throat that she was recalled from her jealous reverie. Then, taking the beautiful glittering neck of the reptile in her hands, she raised its bead to her face and looked it serenely in the eye. It was sufficient; Sirius released the pressure of his enormous folds, and not a soul in the audience knew that her life had been almost forj'it. On retiring she encountered Rolando, enveloped in his great coat, hastening

along the corridor from the precincts of the theatre. He hurried to assist her to her dressing room, but she was angry with him, and with a brusque word, left him standing in the corridor. The next night, and the next Rolando’s sign of the cross was followed by the departure of the woman from the theatre. On the next, however, under a pretext of indisposition Taracas curtailed her entertainment, and left the arena earlier than usual. Donning a long cloak she quickly made her way cs>>t the dressing boxes of the performers till she came to a neglected property room at the extreme end. She approached softly. There were voices' within—a man’s and a woman’s. They were talking in whispers, eagerly and hurriedly, as though anxious to conclude quickly, and remain undiscovered. Suddenly there was movement within. The woman was leaving. Taracas drew back into the shadow behind a pile of obstructing boxes, and watched. Rolando looked fer-jh first. Apparently he was satisfied tfiat nobody was about. Then came the woman. Taracas knew whom to expect, and she was not mistaken. It was the closely veiled woman who had made the sign. He walked to the outer door with her. Then as she stepped out into the darkness of the night he threw his arm about her; she raised her veil, and put up her face, pale, beautiful, refined, and Taracas felt a stab in the heart as she watched her lover print a long and affectionate kiss upon the woman’s lips. The serpent charmer did not view her lover’s performance the succeeding night. Instead she waited nervously about the corridor, her heart aflame with jealous hate, her face blanched with the dread purpose she had set herself to accomplish. “Ah, it is over; she will not be long now,” she said, as she heard the thundering applause of the spectators. In another moment Rolando appeared, and hastily entered his dressing room. He had scarcely disappeared when the outer door of the corridor swung softly open, and the woman, wearing her deep veil, crept in and vanished into the small and dimly lighted property room next the entrance. Taracas sprang forward. The key of the room was on the outside. She had made sure of that. Quickly turning it she put it into her pocket. “A ou are late, signora,” said an attendant, running to meet her. “The people arc impatient for your coming.” She hurried into the amphitheatre, and stood gracefully inclining her head in acknowledgment of the applause. She stooped to lift one of the snakes when a long shriek of agony broke upon the air; then another ; after thata sound of hurrying footsteps, and Rolando, with frightened face and staring eyes, ca:\ie hurrying into the theatre. “Taracas! Taracas! My sister! My sister ! The serpents are with her. Quick, quick.” “Your sister?” “Yes, come! Have you the key of the property room? She is locked in there.” His eye glanced at the snakes. “Why, where is Sirius? Is he loose?” Taracas did not reply to the question. “Oh, God, what have I done?” she cried, and with affrighted eyes, rushed headlong from the building. She flew along the corridor and reached the property room. Inserting the key the door flew open. W 7 hat a sight met her eyes! In a corner of the room, shrinking in horror from the dread object before her, was the woman Taracas had seen with her lover. Sirius, head erect, and showing every indication of fierce rage, had cornered his victim: his glistening eye had transfixed her with fear, preparatory to striking. “Sirius! Sirius!” cried Taracas, bursting into the room. The serpent knew the voice and a tremor ran through his bodju But his rage had overmastered his obedience, and he had no intention of desisting from his evil purpose. In another moment his fangs would be in the throat of the woman. But quick as thought Taracas sprang forward and gripped -him by the neck. Maddened- by this unexpected onslaught, the reptile dipped his . head and struck his fangs deep into the charmer’s' arms. The pain numbed her, and she staggered back. A second later a shot ran out, and the reptile, pierced through the. head bv a bullet from the manager’s revolver, fell dead. “Taracas! Taracas! Speak to me. Just one word, darling.” Rolando had carried her to her room; her beautiful head was on his knees. The man’s face was distraught with the agony of ftar. “Your sister—your sister—Rolando, and I didn’t know it. I was jealous-—I A flash of intelligence. Rolando saw it all now. He hastened to spare the confession the dying woman was about to make. “Yes, my sister, dear,” he said. “We met here in this room several times lately. Taracas, she was hidinn- for her life. There was a will in dispute, and her late husband’s friends had secured an order for her admission to a lunatic asylum. That was why she came tr> me.” “I see it all now,” said Taracas, lifting her head with a great effort. “How wickedly foolish I have been! And the sign —. ” “Was merely to tell -her the way was clear for her to see me.” “I have done wrong, Rolando. I was ienlous, for I love you, oh, so much, Rolando. I ” He pressed his lips to hers, and with a pleased smile her head dropped again upon his knee. Just then the doctor entered. He was too late. The poison of the serpent had accomplished its work. (The End).