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Title: Llana of Gathol
Author: Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950)
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.:  0100241.txt
Language:   English
Date first posted: November 2001
Date most recently updated: November 2001

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Title:      Llana of Gathol
Author:     Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875-1950)





CONTENTS


FORWARD
BOOK 1. THE ANCIENT DEAD
BOOK 2. THE BLACK PIRATES OF BARSOOM
BOOK 3. ESCAPE ON MARS
BOOK 4. INVISIBLE MEN OF MARS





FOREWORD


Lanikai is a district, a beach, a Post Office, and a grocery store. It
lies on the windward shore of the Island of Oahu. It is a long way from
Mars. Its waters are blue and beautiful and calm inside its coral reef,
and the trade wind sighing through the fronds of its coconut palms at
night might be the murmuring voices of the ghosts of the kings and
chieftains who fished in its still waters long before the sea captains
brought strange diseases or the missionaries brought mother-hubbards.

Thoughts of the past, mere vague imaginings, were passing idly through
my mind one night that I could not sleep and was sitting on the lanai
watching the white maned chargers of the sea racing shoreward beneath
the floodlight of the Moon. I saw the giant kings of old Hawaii and
their mighty chiefs clothed in feather cape and helmet. Kamehameha
came, the great conqueror, towering above them all.

Down from the Nuuanu Pali he came in great strides, stepping over cane
fields and houses. The hem of his feather cape caught on the spire of a
church, toppling it to the ground. He stepped on low, soft ground; and
when he lifted his foot, the water of a slough rushed into his
footprint, and there was a lake.

I was much interested in the coming of Kamehameha the King, for I had
always admired him; though I had never expected to see him, he having
been dead a matter of a hundred years or so and his bones buried in a
holy, secret place that no man knows. However, I was not at all
surprised to see him. What surprised me was that I was not surprised. I
distinctly recall this reaction. I also recall that I hoped he would
see me and not step on me.

While I was thinking these thoughts, Kamehameha stopped in front of me
and looked down at me. "Well, well!" he said; "asleep on a beautiful
night like this! I am surprised."

I blinked my eyes hard and looked again. There before me stood indeed a
warrior strangely garbed, but it was not King Kamehameha. Under the
moonlight one's eyes sometimes play strange tricks on one. I blinked
mine again, but the warrior did not vanish. Then I knew!

Leaping to my feet, I extended my hand. "John Carter!" I exclaimed.

"Let's see," he said; "where was it we met last--the headwaters of the
Little Colorado or Tarzana?"

"The headwaters of the Little Colorado in Arizona, I think," I said.
"That was a long time ago. I never expected to see you again."

"No, I never expected to return."

"Why have you? It must be something important."

"Nothing of Cosmic importance," he said, smiling; "but important to me,
nevertheless. You see, I wanted to see you."

"I appreciate that," I said.

"You see, you are the last of my Earthly kin whom I know personally.
Every once in a while I feel an urge to see you and visit with you, and
at long intervals I am able to satisfy that urge--as now. After you
are dead, and it will not be long now, I shall have no Earthly ties--
no reason to return to the scenes of my former life."

"There are my children." I reminded him. "They are your blood kin."

"Yes," he said, "I know; but they might be afraid of me. After all, I
might be considered something of a ghost by Earth men."

"Not by my children," I assured him. "They know you quite as well as I.
After I am gone, see them occasionally."

He nodded. "Perhaps I shall," he half promised.

"And now," I said, "tell me something of yourself, of Mars, of Dejah
Thoris, of Carthoris and Thuvia and of Tara of Helium. Let me see! It
was Gahan of Gathol that Tara of Helium wed."

"Yes," replied the war lord, "it was Gahan, Jed of the free city of
Gathol. They have a daughter, one whose character and whose beauty are
worthy of her mother and her mother's mother--a beauty which, like
that of those other two, hurled nations at each other's throats in war.
Perhaps you would like to hear the story of Llana of Gathol."

I said that I would, and this is the story that he told me that night
beneath the coconut palms of Oahu.





BOOK 1. THE ANCIENT DEAD




Chapter 1



No matter how instinctively gregarious one may be there are times when
one longs for solitude. I like people. I like to be with my family, my
friends, my fighting men; and probably just because I am so keen for
companionship, I am at times equally keen to be alone. It is at such
times that I can best resolve the knotty problems of government in
times of war or peace. It is then that I can meditate upon all the
various aspects of a full life such as I lead; and, being human, I have
plenty of mistakes upon which to meditate that I may fortify myself
against their recommission.

When I feel that strange urge for solitude coming over me, it is my
usual custom to take a one man flier and range the dead sea bottoms and
the other uninhabited wildernesses of this dying planet; for there
indeed is solitude. There are vast areas on Mars where no human foot
has ever trod, and other vast areas that for thousands of years have
known only the giant green men, the wandering nomads of the ocher
deserts.

Sometimes I am away for weeks on these glorious adventures in solitude.
Because of them, I probably know more of the geography and topography
of Mars than any other living man; for they and my other adventurous
excursions upon the planet have carried me from the Lost Sea of Korus,
in the Valley Dor at the frozen South to Okar, land of the black
bearded Yellow Men of the frozen North, and from Kaol to Bantoom; and
yet there are many parts of Barsoom that I have not visited, which will
not seem so strange when there is taken into consideration the fact
that although the area of Mars is like more than one fourth that of
Earth its land area is almost eight million square miles greater. That
is because Barsoom has no large bodies of surface water, its largest
known ocean being entirely subterranean. Also, I think you will admit,
fifty-six million square miles is a lot of territory to know
thoroughly.

Upon the occasion of which I am about to tell you I flew northwest from
Helium, which lies 30 degrees south of the Equator which I crossed about
sixteen hundred miles east of Exum, the Barsoomian Greenwich. North and
west of me lay a vast, almost unexplored region; and there I thought to
find the absolute solitude for which I craved.

I had set my directional compass upon Horz, the long deserted city of
ancient Barsoomian culture, and loafed along at seventy-five miles an
hour at an altitude of five hundred to a thousand feet. I had seen some
green men northeast of Torquas and had been forced up to escape their
fire, which I did not return as I was not seeking adventure; and I had
crossed two thin ribbons of red Martian farm land bordering canals that
bring the precious waters from the annually melting ice caps at the
poles. Beyond these I saw no signs of human life in all the five
thousand miles that lie between Lesser Helium and Horz.

It is always a little saddening to me to look down thus upon a dying
world, to scan the endless miles of ocher, mosslike vegetation which
carpets the vast areas where once rolled the mighty oceans of a young
and virile Mars, to ponder that just beneath me once ranged the proud
navies and the merchant ships of a dozen rich and powerful nations
where today the fierce banth roams a solitude whose silence is unbroken
except for the roars of the killer and the screams of the dying.

At night I slept, secure in the knowledge that my directional compass
would hold a true course for Horz and always at the altitude for which
I had set it--a thousand feet, not above sea level but above the
terrain over which the ship was passing. These amazing little
instruments may be set for any point upon Barsoom and at any altitude.
If one is set for a thousand feet, as mine was upon this occasion, it
will not permit the ship to come closer than a thousand feet to any
object, thus eliminating even the danger of collision; and when the
ship reaches its objective the compass will stop it a thousand feet
above. The pilot whose ship is equipped with one of these directional
compasses does not even have to remain awake; thus I could travel day
and night without danger.

It was about noon of the third day that I sighted the towers of ancient
Horz.

The oldest part of the city lies upon the edge of a vast plateau; the
newer portions, and they are countless thousands of years old, are
terraced downward into a great gulf, marking the hopeless pursuit of
the receding sea upon the shores of which this rich and powerful city
once stood. The last poor, mean structures of a dying race have either
disappeared or are only mouldering ruins now; but the splendid
structures of her prime remain at the edge of the plateau, mute but
eloquent reminders of her vanished grandeur--enduring monuments to the
white-skinned, fair-haired race which has vanished forever.

I am always interested in these deserted cities of ancient Mars. Little
is known of their inhabitants, other than what can be gathered from the
stories told by the carvings which ornament the exteriors of many of
their public buildings and the few remaining murals which have
withstood the ravages of time and the vandalism of the green hordes
which have overrun many of them. The extremely low humidity has helped
to preserve them, but more than all else was the permanency of their
construction. These magnificent edifices were built not for years but
for eternities. The secrets of their mortars, their cements, and their
pigments have been lost for ages; and for countless ages more, long
after the last life has disappeared from the face of Barsoom, their
works will remain, hurtling through space forever upon a dead, cold
planet with no eye to see, with no mind to appreciate. It is a sad
thing to contemplate.

At last I was over Horz. I had for long promised myself that some day I
should come here, for Horz is, perhaps, the oldest and the greatest of
the dead cities of Barsoom. Water built it, the lack of water spelled
its doom. I often wonder if the people of Earth, who have water in such
abundance, really appreciate it.

I wonder if the inhabitants of New York City realize what it would mean
to them if some enemy, establishing an air base within cruising radius
of the first city of the New World, should successfully bomb and
destroy Croton Dam and the Catskill water system. The railroads and the
highways would be jammed with refugees, millions would die, and for
years, perhaps forever, New York City would cease to be.

As I floated lazily above the deserted city I saw figures moving in a
plaza below me. So Horz was not entirely deserted! My curiosity piqued,
I dropped a little lower; and what I saw dashed thoughts of solitude
from my mind--a lone red man beset by half a dozen fierce green
warriors.

I had not sought adventure, but here it was; for no man worthy of his
metal would abandon one of his own kind in such a dire extremity. I saw
a spot where I might land in a nearby plaza; and, praying that the
green men would be too engrossed with their engagement to note my
approach, I dove quickly and silently toward a landing.




Chapter 2



Fortunately I landed unobserved, screened by a mighty tower which rose
beside the plaza I had selected. I had seen that they were fighting
with long-swords, and so I drew mine as I ran in the direction of the
unequal struggle. That the red man lived even a few moments against
such odds bespoke the excellence of his swordsmanship, and I hoped that
he would hold out until I reached him; for then he would have the best
sword arm in all Barsoom to aid him and the sword that had tasted the
blood of a thousand enemies the length and breadth of a world.

I found my way from the plaza in which I had landed, but only to be
confronted by a twenty-foot wall in which I could perceive no opening.
Doubtless there was one, I knew; but in the time that I might waste in
finding it my man might easily be killed.

The clash of swords, the imprecations, and the grunts of fighting men
came to me distinctly from the opposite side of the wall which barred
my way. I could even hear the heavy breathing of the fighters. I heard
the green men demand the surrender of their quarry and his taunting
reply. I liked what he said and the way he said it in the face of
death.

My knowledge of the ways of the green men assured me that they would
try to capture him for purposes of torture rather than kill him
outright, but if I were to save him from either fate I must act quickly.

There was only one way to reach him without loss of time, and that way
was open to me because of the lesser gravitation of Mars and my great
Earthly strength and agility. I would simply jump to the top of the
wall, take a quick survey of the lay of the land beyond, and then drop
down, long-sword in hand, and take my place at the side of the red man.

When I exert myself, I can jump to incredible heights. Twenty feet is
nothing, but this time I miscalculated. I was several yards from the
wall when I took a short run and leaped into the air. Instead of
alighting on the top of the wall, as I had planned, I soared completely
over it, clearing it by a good ten feet.

Below me were the fighters. Apparently I was going to land right in
their midst.

So engrossed were they in their sword play that they did not notice me;
and that was well for me; as one of the green men could easily have
impaled me on his sword as I dropped upon them.

My man was being hard pressed. It was evident that the green men had
given up the notion of capturing him, and were trying to finish him
off. One of them had him at a disadvantage and was about to plunge a
longsword through him when I alighted. By rare good luck I alighted
squarely upon the back of the man who was about to kill the red man,
and I alighted with the point of my sword protruding straight below me.
It caught him in the left shoulder and passed downward through his
heart, and even before he collapsed I had planted both feet upon his
shoulders; and, straightening up, withdrawn my blade from his carcass.

For a moment my amazing advent threw them all off their guard, and in
that moment I leaped to the side of the red man and faced his remaining
foes, the red blood of a green warrior dripping from my point.

The red man threw a quick glance at me; and then the remaining green
men were upon us, and there was no time for words. A fellow swung at me
and missed. Gad! what a blow he swung! Had it connected I should have been
as headless as a rykor. It was unfortunate for the green man that it did
not, for mine did. I cut horizontally with all my Earthly strength, which
is great on Earth and infinitely greater on Mars. My longsword, its edge
as keen as a razor and its steel such as only Barsoom produces, passed
entirely through the body of my antagonist, cutting him in two.

"Well done!" exclaimed the red man, and again he cast a quick glance
at me.

From the corner of my eye I caught an occasional glimpse of my unknown
comrade, and I saw some marvelous swordsmanship. I was proud to fight
at the side of such a man. By now we had reduced the number of our
antagonists to three. They fell back a few steps, dropping their
points, just for a breathing spell. I neither needed nor desired a
breathing spell; but, glancing at my companion, I saw that he was
pretty well exhausted; so I dropped my point too and waited.

It was then that I got my first good look at the man whose cause I had
espoused; and I got a shock, too. This was no red man, but a white man
if I have ever seen one. His skin was bronzed by exposure to the sun,
as is mine; and that had at first deceived me. But now I saw that there
was nothing red-Martian about him.

His harness, his weapons, everything about him differed from any that I
had seen on Mars.

He wore a headdress, which is quite unusual upon Barsoom. It consisted
of a leather band that ran around the head just above his brows, with
another leather band crossing his from right to left and a second from
front to rear. These bands were highly ornamented with carving and set
with jewels and precious metals. To the center of the band that crossed
his forehead was affixed a flat piece of gold in the shape of a
spearhead with the point up. This, also, was beautifully carved and
bore a strange device inlaid in red and black.

Confined by this headdress was a shock of blond hair--a most amazing
thing to see upon Mars. At first I jumped to the conclusion that he
must be a thern from the far south-polar land; but that thought I
discarded at once when I realized that the hair was his own. The therns
are entirely bald and wear great yellow wigs.

I also saw that my companion was strangely handsome. I might say
beautiful were it not for the effeminateness which the word connotes,
and there was nothing effeminate about the way this man fought or the
mighty oaths that he swore when he spoke at all to an adversary. We
fighting men are not given to much talk, but when you feel your blade
cleave a skull in twain or drive through the heart of a foeman, then
sometimes a great oath is wrenched from your lips.

But I had little time then to appraise my companion, for the remaining
three were at us again in a moment. I fought that day, I suppose, as I
have always fought; but each time it seems to me that I have never
fought so well as upon that particular occasion. I do not take great
credit for my fighting ability, for it seems to me that my sword is
inspired. No man could think as quickly as my point moves, always to
the right spot at the right time, as though anticipating the next move
of an adversary. It weaves a net of steel about me that few blades have
ever pierced. It fills the foeman's eyes with amazement and his mind
with doubt and his heart with fear. I imagine that much of my success
has been due to the psychological effect of my swordsmanship upon my
adversaries.

Simultaneously my companion and I each struck down an antagonist, and
then the remaining warrior turned to flee. "Do not let him escape!"
cried my comrade-in-arms, and leaped in pursuit, at the same time
calling loudly for help, something he had not done when close to death
before the points of six swords. But whom did he expect to answer his
appeal in this dead and deserted city? Why did he call for help when
the last of his antagonists was in full flight? I was puzzled; but
having enlisted myself in this strange adventure, I felt that I should
see it through; and so I set off in pursuit of the fleeing green man.

He crossed the courtyard where we had been engaged and made for a great
archway that opened out into a broad avenue. I was close behind him,
having outstripped both him and the strange warrior. When I came into
the avenue I saw the green man leap to the back of one of six thoats
waiting there, and at the same time I saw at least a hundred warriors
pouring from a nearby building. They were yellow-haired white men,
garbed like my erstwhile fighting companion, who now joined in the
pursuit of the green man. They were armed with bows and arrows; and
they sent a volley of missiles after the escaping quarry, whom they
could never hope to overtake, and who was soon out of range of their
weapons.

The spirit of adventure is so strong within me that I often yield to
its demands in spite of the dictates of my better judgment. This matter
was no affair of mine. I had already done all, and even more than could
have been expected of me; yet I leaped to the back of one of the
remaining thoats and took off in pursuit of the green warrior.




Chapter 3



There are two species of thoat on Mars: the small, comparatively docile
breed used by the red Martians as saddle animals and, to a lesser
extent, as beasts of burden on the farms that border the great
irrigation canals; and then there are the huge, vicious, unruly beasts
that the green warriors use exclusively as steeds of war.

These creatures tower fully ten feet at the shoulder. They have four
legs on either side and a broad, flat tail, larger at the tip than at
the root, that they hold straight out behind while running. Their
gaping mouths split their heads from their snouts to their long,
massive necks. Their bodies, the upper portion of which is a dark slate
color and exceedingly smooth and glossy, are entirely devoid of hair.
Their bellies are white, and their legs shade gradually from the slate
color of their bodies to a vivid yellow at the feet, which are heavily
padded and nailless.

The thoat of the green man has the most abominable disposition of any
creature I have ever seen, not even the green men themselves excepted.
They are constantly fighting among themselves, and woe betide the rider
who loses control of his terrible mount; yet, paradoxical as it may
appear, they are ridden without bridle or bit; and are controlled
solely by telepathic means, which, fortunately for me, I learned many
ago while I was prisoner of Lorquas Ptomel, jed of the Tharks, a green
Martian horde.

The beast to whose back I had vaulted was a vicious devil, and he took
violent exception to me and probably to my odor. He tried to buck me
off; and, failing that, reached back with his huge, gaping jaws in an
effort to seize me.

There is, I might mention, an auxiliary method of control when these
ugly beasts become recalcitrant; and I adopted it in this instance,
notwithstanding the fact that I had won grudging approval from the
fierce green Tharks by controlling thoats through patience and
kindness. I had time for neither now, as my quarry was racing along the
broad avenue that led to the ancient quays of Horz and the vast dead
sea bottoms beyond; so I laid heavily upon the head and snout of the
beast with the flat of my broadsword until I had beaten it into
subjection; then it obeyed my telepathic commands, and set out at great
speed in pursuit.

It was a very swift thoat, one of the swiftest that I had ever
bestrode; and, in addition, it carried much less weight than the beast
we sought to overtake; so we closed up rapidly on the escaping green man.

At the very edge of the plateau upon which the old city was built we
caught up with him, and there he stopped and wheeled his mount and
prepared to give battle. It was then that I began to appreciate the
marvelous intelligence of my mount. Almost without direction from me be
maneuvered into the correct positions to give me an advantage in this
savage duel, and when at last I had achieved a sudden advantage which
had almost unseated my rival, my thoat rushed like a mad devil upon the
thoat of the green warrior tearing at its throat with his mighty jaws
while he tried to beat it to its knees with the weight of his savage
assault.

It was then that I gave the coup de grace to my beaten and bloody
adversary; and, leaving him where he had fallen, rode back to receive
the plaudits and the thanks of my newfound friends.

They were waiting for me, a hundred of them, in what had probably once
been a public market place in the ancient city of Horz. They were not
smiling. They looked sad. As I dismounted, they crowded around me.

"Did the green man escape?" demanded one whose ornaments and metal
proclaimed him a leader.

"No," I replied; "he is dead."

A great sigh of relief arose from a hundred throats. Just why they
should feel such relief that a single green man had been killed I did
not then understand.

They thanked me, crowding around me as they did so; and stiff they were
unsmiling and sad. I suddenly realized that these people were not
friendly--it came to me intuitively, but too late. They were pushing
against me from all sides, so that I could not even raise an arm, and
then, quite suddenly at a word from their leader, I was disarmed.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded. "Of my own volition I came
to the aid of one of your people who would otherwise have been killed.
Is this the thanks I am to receive? Give me back my weapons and let me
go."

"I am sorry," said he who had first spoken, "but we cannot--do
otherwise. Pan Dan Chee, to whose aid you came, has pleaded that we
permit you to go your way; but such is not the law of Horz. I must take
you to Ho Ran Kim, the great jeddak of Horz. There we will all plead
for you, but our pleas will be unavailing. In the end you will be
destroyed. The safety of Horz is more important than the life of any
man."

"I am not threatening the safety of Horz," I replied. "Why should I
have designs upon a dead city, which is of absolutely no importance to
the Empire of Helium, in the service of whose Jeddak, Tardos Mors, I
wear the harness of a war lord."

"I am sorry," exclaimed Pan Dan Chee, who had pushed his way to my side
through the press of warriors. "I called to you when you mounted the
thoat and pursued the green warrior and told you not to return, but
evidently you did not hear me.

"For that I may die, but I shall die proudly. I sought to influence Lan
Sohn Wen, who commands this utan, to permit you to escape, but in vain.
I shall intercede for you with Ho Ran Kim, the jeddak; but I am afraid
that there is no hope."

"Come!" said Lan Sohn Wen; "we have wasted enough time here. We will
take the prisoner to the jeddak. By the way, what is your name?"

"I am John Carter, a Prince of Helium and Warlord of Barsoom," I
replied.

"A proud title, that last," he said; "but of Helium I have never
heard."

"If harm befalls me here," I said, "you'll hear of Helium if Helium
ever learns."

I was escorted through still magnificent avenues flanked by beautiful
buildings, still beautiful in decay. I think I have never seen such
inspiring architecture, nor construction so enduring. I do not know how
old these buildings are, but I have heard Martian savants argue that
the original dominant race of white-skinned, yellow-haired people
flourished fully a million years ago. It seems incredible that their
works should still exist; but there are many things on Mars incredible
to the narrow, earthbound men of our little speck of dust.

At last we halted before a tiny gate in a colossal, fortress-like
edifice in which there was no other opening than this small gate for
fifty feet above the ground. From a balcony fifty feet above the gate a
sentry looked down upon us.

"Who comes?" he demanded, although he could doubtless see who came, and
must have recognized Lan Sohn Wen.

"It is Lan Sohn Wen, Dwar, commanding the 1st Utan of The Jeddak's
Guard, with a prisoner," replied Lan Sohn Wen.

The sentry appeared bewildered. "My orders are to admit no strangers,"
he said, "but to kill them immediately."

"Summon the commander of the guard," snapped Lan Sohn Wen, and
presently an officer came onto the balcony with the sentry.

"What is this?" he demanded. "No prisoner has ever been brought into
the citadel of Horz. You know the law."

"This is an emergency," said Lan Sohn Wen. "I must bring this man
before Ho Ran Kim. Open the gate!"

"Only on orders from Ho Ran Kim himself," replied the commander of the
guard.

"Then go get the orders," said Lan Sohn Wen. "Tell the Jeddak that I
strongly urge him to receive me with this prisoner. He is not as other
prisoners who have fallen into our hands in times past."

The officer re-entered the citadel and was gone for perhaps fifteen
minutes when the little gate before which we stood swung outward, and
we were motioned in by the commander of the guard himself.

"The Jeddak will receive you," he said to the dwar, Lan Sohn Wen.

The citadel was an enormous walled city within the ancient city of
Horz. It was quite evidently impregnable to any but attack by air.
Within were pleasant avenues, homes, gardens, shops. Happy, carefree
people stopped to look at me in astonishment as I was conducted down a
broad boulevard toward a handsome building. It was the palace of the
Jeddak, Ho Ran Kim. A sentry stood upon either side of the portal.
There was no other guard; and these two were there more as a formality
and as messengers than for protection, for within the walls of the
citadel no man needed protection from another; as I was to learn.

We were detained in an ante room for a few minutes while we were being
announced, and then we were ushered down a long corridor and into a
medium size room where a man sat at a desk alone. This was Ho Ran Kim,
Jeddak of Horz. His skin was not as tanned as that of his warriors, but
his hair was just as yellow and his eyes as blue.

I felt those blue eyes appraising me as I approached his desk. They
were kindly eyes, but with a glint of steel. From me they passed to Lan
Sohn Wen, and to him Ho Ran Kim spoke.

"This is most unusual," he said in a quiet, well modulated voice. "You
know, do you not, that Horzans have died for less than this?"

"I do, my Jeddak," replied the dwar; "but this is a most unusual
emergency."

"Explain yourself," said the Jeddak.

"Let me explain," interrupted Pan Dan Chee, "for after all the
responsibility is mine. I urged this action upon Lan Sohn Wen."

The Jeddak nodded. "Proceed," he said.




Chapter 4



I couldn't comprehend why they were making such an issue of bringing in
a prisoner, nor why men had died for less, as Ho Ran Kim had reminded
Lan Sohn Wen. In Helium, a warrior would have received at least
commendation for bringing in a prisoner. For bringing in John Carter,
Warlord of Mars, a common warrior might easily have been ennobled by an
enemy prince.

"My Jeddak," commenced Pan Dan Chee, "while I was beset by six green
warriors, this man, who says he is known as John Carter, Warlord of
Barsoom, came of his own volition to fight at my side. From whence he
came I do not know. I only know that at one moment I was fighting
alone, a hopeless fight, and that at the next there fought at my side
the greatest swordsman Horz has ever seen. He did not have to come; he
could have left at any time, but he remained; and because he remained I
am alive and the last of the six green warriors lies dead by the
ancient waterfront. He would have escaped had not John Carter leaped to
the back of a great thoat and pursued him.

"Then this man could have escaped, but he came back. He fought for a
soldier of Horz. He trusted the men of Horz. Are we to repay him with
death?"

Pan Dan Chee ceased speaking, and Ho Ran Kim turned his blue eyes upon
me. "John Carter," he said, "what you have done commands the respect
and sympathy of every man of Horz. It wins the thanks of their Jeddak,
but-" He hesitated. "Perhaps if I tell you something of our history,
you will understand why I must condemn you to death." He paused for a
moment, as though in thought.

At the same time I was doing a little thinking on my own account The
casual manner in which Ho Ran Kim had sentenced me to death had rather
taken my breath away. He seemed so friendly that it didn't seem
possible that he was in earnest, but a glance at the glint in those
blue eyes assured me that he was not being facetious.

"I am sure," I said, "that the history of Horz must be most
interesting; but right now I am most interested in learning why I
should have to die for befriending a fighting man of Horz."

"That I shall explain," he said.

"It is going to take a great deal of explaining, your majesty," I
assured him.

He paid no attention to that, but continued. "The inhabitants of Horz
are, as far as we know, the sole remaining remnant of the once dominant
race of Barsoom, the Orovars. A million years ago our ships ranged the
five great oceans, which we ruled. The city of Horz was not only the
capital of a great empire, it was the seat of learning and culture of
the most glorious race of human beings a world has ever known. Our
empire spread from pole to pole. There were other races on Barsoom, but
they were few in numbers and negligible in importance. We looked upon
them as inferior creatures. The Orovars owned Barsoom, which was
divided among a score of powerful jeddaks. They were a happy,
prosperous, contented people, the various nations seldom warring upon
one another. Horz had enjoyed a thousand years of peace.

"They had reached the ultimate pinnacle of civilization and perfection
when the first shadow of impending fate darkened their horizon--the
seas began to recede, the atmosphere to grow more tenuous. What science
had long predicted was coming to pass--a world was dying.

"For ages our cities followed the receding waters. Straits and bays,
canals and lakes dried up. Prosperous seaports became deserted inland
cities. Famine came. Hungry hordes made war upon the more fortunate.
The growing hordes of wild green men overran what had once been fertile
farm land, preying upon all.

"The atmosphere became so tenuous that it was difficult to breathe.
Scientists were working upon an atmosphere plant, but before it was
completed and in successful operation all but a few of the inhabitants
of Barsoom had died. Only the hardiest survived--the green men, the
red men, and a few Orovars; then life became merely a battle for the
survival of the fittest.

"The green men hunted us as we had hunted beasts of prey. They gave us
no rest, they showed us no mercy. We were few; they were many. Horz
became our last city of refuge, and our only hope of survival lay in
preventing the outside world from knowing that we existed; therefore,
for ages we have slain every stranger who came to Horz and saw an
Orovar, that no man might go away and betray our presence to our
enemies.

"Now you will understand that no matter how deeply we must regret the
necessity, it is obvious that we cannot let you live."

"I can understand," I said, "that you might feel it necessary to
destroy an enemy; but I see no reason for destroying a friend. However,
that is for you to decide."

"It is already decided, my friend," said the Jeddak. "You must die."

"Just a moment, O Jeddak!" exclaimed Pan Dan Chee. "Before you pass
final judgment, consider this alternative. If he remains here in Horz,
he cannot carry word to our enemies. We owe him a debt of gratitude.
Permit him then to live, but always within the walls of the citadel."

There were nods of approval from the others present, and I saw by his
quickly darting eyes that Ho Ran Kim had noticed them. He cleared his
throat. "Perhaps that is something that should be given thought," he
said. "I shall reserve judgment until the morrow. I do so largely
because of my love for you, Pan Dan Chee; inasmuch as, because it was
due to your importunities that this man is here, you must suffer
whatever fate is ordained for him."

Pan Dan Chee was certainly surprised, nor could he hide the fact; but
he took the blow like a man. "I shall consider it an honor," he said,
"to share any fate that may be meted to John Carter, Warlord of
Barsoom."

"Well said, Pan Dan Chee!" exclaimed the Jeddak. "My admiration for you
increases as does the bitterness of my sorrow when I contemplate the
almost inescapable conviction that on the morrow you die."

Pan Dan Chee bowed. "I thank your majesty for your deep concern," he
said. "The remembrance of it will glorify last my hours."

The Jeddak turned his eyes upon Lan Sohn Wen, and held them them for
what seemed a full minute. I would have laid ten to one that Ho Ran Kim
was about to cause himself further untold grief by condemning Lan Sohn
Wen to death. I think Lan Sohn Wen thought the same thing. He looked
worried.

"Lan Sohn Wen," said Ho Ran Kim, "you will conduct these two to the
pits and leave them there for the night. See that they have good food
and every possible comfort, for they are my honored guests."

"But the pits, your majesty!" exclaimed Lan Sohn Wen. "They have never
been used within the memory of man. I do not even know that I can find
the entrance to them."

"That is so," said Ho Ran Kim, thoughtfully. "Even if you found them
they might prove very dirty and uncomfortable. Perhaps it would be
kinder to destroy John Carter and Pan Dan Chee at once."

"Wait, majesty," said Pan Dan Chee. "I know where lies the entrance to
the pits. I have been in them. They can easily be made most comfortable.
I would not think of altering your plans or causing you immediately the
deep grief of sorrowing over the untimely passing of John Carter and
myself. Come, Lan Sohn Wen! I will lead the way to the pits of Horz!"




Chapter 5



It was a good thing for me that Pan Dan Chee was a fast talker. Before
Ho Ran Kim could formulate any objections we were out of the audience
chamber and on our way to the pits of Horz, and I can tell you that I
was glad to be out of sight of that kindly and considerate tyrant.
There was no telling when some new humanitarian urge might influence
him to order our heads lopped off instanter.

The entrance to the pits of Horz was in a small, windowless building
near the rear wall of the citadel. It was closed by massive gates that
creaked on corroded hinges as two of the warriors who had accompanied
us pushed them open.

"It is dark in there," said Pan Dan Chee. "We'll break our necks
without a light."

Lan Sohn Wen, being a good fellow, sent one of his men for some
torches; and when he returned, Pan Dan Chee and I entered the gloomy
cavern.

We had taken but a few steps toward the head of a rock hewn ramp that
ran downward into Stygian darkness, when Lan Sohn Wen cried, "Wait!
Where is the key to these gates?"

"The keeper of the keys of some great jeddak who lived thousands of
years ago may have known," replied Pan Dan Chee, "but I don't."

"But how am I going to lock you in?" demanded Lan Sohn Wen.

"The Jeddak didn't tell you to lock us in," said Pan Dan Chee. "He said
to take us to the pits and leave us there for the night. I distinctly
recall his very words."

Lan Sohn Wen was in a quandary, but at last he hit upon an avenue of
escape.

"Come," he said, "I shall take you back to the Jeddak and explain that
there are no keys; then it will be up to him."

"And you know what he will do!" said Pan Dan Chee.

"What?" asked Lan Sohn Wen.

"He will order us destroyed at once. Come, Lan Sohn Wen, do not condemn
us to immediate death. Post a guard here at the gates, with orders to
kill us if we try to escape."

Lan Sohn Wen considered this for a moment, and finally nodded his head
in acquiescence. "That is an excellent plan," he said, and then he
detailed two warriors to stand guard; and arranged for their relief,
after which he wished us good night and departed with his warriors.

I have never seen such courteous and considerate people as the Orovars;
it might almost be a pleasure to have one's throat slit by one of them,
he would be so polite about it. They are the absolute opposites of
their hereditary enemies, the green men; for these are endowed with
neither courtesy, consideration, nor kindness. They are cold, cruel,
abysmal brutes to whom love is unknown and whose creed is hate.
Nevertheless, the pits of Horz was not a pleasant place. The dust of
ages lay upon the ramp down which we walked. From its end a corridor
stretched away beyond the limits of our torchlight. It was a wide
corridor, with doors opening from it on either side. These, I presumed,
were the dungeons where ancient jeddaks had confined their enemies. I
asked Pan Dan Chee.

"Probably," he said, "though our jeddaks have never used them."

"Have they never had enemies?" I asked.

"Certainly, but they have considered it cruel to imprison men in dark
holes like this; so they have always destroyed them immediately they
were suspected of being enemies."

"Then why are the pits here?" I demanded.

"Oh, they were built when the city was built, perhaps a million years
ago, perhaps more. It just chanced that the citadel was built around
the entrance."

I glanced into one of the dungeons. A mouldering skeleton lay upon the
floor, the rusted irons that had secured it to the wall lying among its
bones. In the next dungeon were three skeletons and two magnificently
carved, metal bound chests. As Pan Dan Chee raised the lid of one of
them I could scarce repress a gasp of astonishment and admiration. The
chest was filled with magnificent gems in settings of elaborate beauty,
specimens of forgotten arts, the handicraft of master craftsmen who had
lived a million years ago. I think that nothing that I had ever seen
before had so impressed me. And it was depressing, for these jewels had
been worn by lovely women and brave men who had disappeared into an
oblivion so complete that not even a memory of them remained.

My reverie was interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet behind me. I
wheeled; and, instinctively, my hand flew to where the hilt of a sword
should have been but was not. Facing me, and ready to spring upon me,
was the largest ulsio I had ever seen.

These Martian rats are fierce and unlovely things. They are many legged
and hairless, their hide resembling that of a new-born mouse in
repulsiveness. Their eyes are small and close set and almost hidden in
deep, fleshy apertures. Their most ferocious and repulsive features,
however, are their jaws, the entire bony structure of which protrudes
several inches beyond the flesh, revealing five sharp, spadelike teeth
in each jaw, the whole suggesting the appearance of a rotting face from
which much of the flesh has sloughed away. Ordinarily they are about
the size of an Airedale terrier, but the thing that leaped for me in
the pits of Horz that day was as large as a small puma and ten times as
ferocious.

As the creature leaped for my throat, I struck it a heavy blow on the
side of its head and knocked it to one side; but it was up at once and
at me again; then Pan Dan Chee came into the scene. They had not
disarmed him, and with short-sword he set upon the ulsio.

It was quite a battle. That ulsio was the most ferocious and most
determined beast I had ever seen, and it gave Pan Dan Chee the fight of
his life. He had knocked off two of its six legs, an ear, and most of
its teeth before the ferocity of its repeated attacks abated at all. It
was almost cut to ribbons, yet it always forced the fighting. I could
only stand and look on, which is not such a part in a fight as I like
to take. At last, however, it was over; the ulsio was dead, and Pan Dan
Chee looked at me and smiled.

He was looking around for something upon which he might wipe the blood
from his blade. "Perhaps there is something in this other chest," I
suggested; and, walking to it, I lifted the lid.

The chest was about seven feet long, two and a half wide and two deep.
In it lay the body of a man. His elaborate harness was encrusted with
jewels. He wore a helmet entirely covered with diamonds, one of the few
helmets I had ever seen upon Mars. The scabbards of his long-sword, his
shortsword, and his dagger were similarly emblazoned.

He had been a very handsome man, and he was still a handsome corpse. So
perfectly was he preserved that, in so far as appearances went, he
might still have been alive but for the thin layer of dust overlying
his features. When I blew this away he looked quite as alive as you or
I.

"You bury your dead here?" I asked Pan Dan Chee, but he shook his head.

"No," he replied. "This chap may have been here a million years."

"Nonsense!" I exclaimed. "He would have dried up and blown away
thousands of years ago."

"I don't know about that," said Pan Dan Chee. "There were lots of
things that those old fellows knew that are lost arts today. Embalming,
I know, was one of them. There is the legend of Lee Um Lo, the most
famous embalmer of all time. It recounts that his work was so perfect
that not even the corpse, himself, knew that he was dead; and upon
several occasions they arose and walked out during the funeral
services. The end of Lee Um Lo came when the wife of a great jeddak
failed to realize that she was dead, and walked right in on the jeddak
and his new wife. The next day Lee Um Lo lost his head."

"It is a good story," I said, laughing; "but I hope this chap realizes
that he is dead; because I am about to disarm him. Little could he have
dreamed a million years ago that one day he was going to rearm The
Warlord of Barsoom."

Pan Dan Chee helped me raise the corpse and remove its harness; and we
were both rather startled by the soft, pliable texture of the flesh and
its normal warmth.

"Do you suppose we could be mistaken?" I asked. "Could it be that he is
not dead?"

Pan Dan Chee shrugged. "The knowledge and the arts of the ancients are
beyond the ken of modern man," he said.

"That doesn't help a bit," I said. "Do you think this chap can be
alive?"

"His face was covered with dust," said Pan Dan Chee, "and no one has
been in these pits for thousands and thousands of years. If he isn't
dead, he should be."

I quite agreed, and buckled the gorgeous harness about me without more
ado. I drew the swords and the dagger and examined them. They were as
bright and fine as the day they had received their first polish, and
their edges were keen. Once again, I felt like a whole man, so much is
a sword a part of me.

As we stepped out into the corridor I saw a light far away. It was gone
almost in the instant. "Did you see that?" I asked Pan Dan Chee.

"I saw it," he said, and his voice was troubled. "There should be no
light here, for there are no people."

We stood straining our eyes along the corridor for a repetition of the
light.

There was none but from afar there echoed down that black corridor a
hollow laugh.




Chapter 6



Pan Dan Chee looked at me. "What," he asked, "could that have been?"

"It sounded very much like a laugh to me," replied.

Pan Dan Chee nodded. "Yes," he agreed, but how can there be a laugh
where there is no one to laugh?" Pan Dan Chee was perplexed.

"Perhaps the ulsios of Horz have learned to laugh," I suggested with a
smile.

Pan Dan Chee ignored my flippancy. "We saw a light and we heard a
laugh," he said thoughtfully. "What does that convey to you?"

"The same thing that it conveys to you," I said: "that there is some
one down here in the Pits of Horz beside us."

"I do not see how that can be possible," he said.

"Let's investigate," I suggested.

With drawn swords we advanced; for we did not know the nature nor the
temper of the owner of that laugh, and there was always the chance that
an ulsio might leap from one of the dungeons and attack us.

The corridor ran straight for some distance, and then commenced to
curve. There were many branches and intersections, but we kept to what
we believed to be the main corridor. We saw no more lights, heard no
more laughter. There was not a sound in all that vast labyrinth of
passageways other than the subdued clanking of our metal, the
occasional shuffling of our sandalled feet, and the soft whisperings of
our leather harnesses.

"It is useless to search farther," said Pan Dan Chee at last. "We might
as well start back."

Now I had no intention of going back to my death. I reasoned that the
light and the laugh indicated the presence of man in these pits. If the
inhabitants of Horz knew nothing of them; then they must enter the pits
from outside the citadel, indicating an avenue of escape open to me.
Therefore, I did not wish to retrace our steps; so I suggested that we
rest for a while and discuss our future plans.

"We can rest," said Pan Dan Chee, "but there is nothing to discuss. Our
plans have all been made for us by Ho Ran Kim."

We entered a cell which contained no grim reminders of past tragedy;
and, after wedging one of our torches in a niche in the wall, we sat
down on the hard stone floor.

"Perhaps your plans have been made for you by Ho Ran Kim," I said, "but
I make my own plans."

"And they are-?" he asked.

"I am not going back to be murdered. I am going to find a way out of
these pits."

Pan Dan Chee shook his head sorrowfully. "I am sorry," he said, "but
you are going back to meet your fate with me."

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"Because I shall have to take you back. You well know that I cannot let
a stranger escape from Horz."

"That means that we shall have to fight to the death, Pan Dan Chee," I
said; "and I do not wish to kill one at whose side I have fought and
whom I have learned to admire."

"I feel the same way, John Carter," said Pan Dan Chee. "I do not wish
to kill you; but you must see my position--if you do not come with me
willingly, I shall have to kill you."

I tried to argue him out of his foolish stand, but he was adamant. I
was positive that Pan Dan Chee liked me; and I shrank from the idea of
killing him, as I knew that I should. He was an excellent swordsman,
but what chance would he have against the master swordsman of two
worlds? I am sorry if that should sound like boasting; for I abhor
boasting--I only spoke what is a fact. I am, unquestionably, the best
swordsman that has ever lived.

"Well," I said, "we don't have to kill each other at once. Let's enjoy
each other's company for a while longer."

Pan Dan Chee smiled. "That will suit me perfectly," he said.

"How about a game of Jetan?" I asked. "It will help to pass the time
pleasantly."

"How can we play Jetan without a board or the pieces?" he asked.

I opened the leather pocket pouch such as all Martians carry, and took
out a tiny, folding Jetan board with all the pieces--a present from
Dejah Thoris, my incomparable mate. Pan Dan Chee was intrigued by it,
and it is a marvelously beautiful piece of work. The greatest artist of
Helium had designed the pieces, which had been carved under his
guidance by two of our greatest sculptors.

Each of the pieces, such as Warriors, Padwars, Dwars, Panthans, and
Chiefs, were carved in the likeness of well-known Martian fighting men;
and one of the Princesses was a beautifully executed miniature carving
of Tara of Helium, and the other Princess, Llana of Gathol.

I am inordinately proud of this Jetan set; and because the figures are
so tiny, I always carry a small but powerful reading glass, not alone
that I may enjoy them but that others may. I offered it now to Pan Dan
Chee, who examined the figures minutely.

"Extraordinary," he said. "I have never seen anything more beautiful."
He had examined one figure much longer than he had the others, and he
held it in his hand now as though loath to relinquish it. "What an
exquisite imagination the artist must have had who created this figure,
for he could have had no model for such gorgeous beauty; since nothing
like it exists on Barsoom."

"Every one of those figures was carved from life," I told him.

"Perhaps the others," he said, "but not this one. No such beautiful
woman ever lived."

"Which one is it?" I asked, and he handed it to me. "This," I said, "is
Llana of Gathol, the daughter of Tara of Helium, who is my daughter.
She really lives, and this is a most excellent likeness of her. Of
course it cannot do her justice since it cannot reflect her animation
nor the charm of her personality."

He took the little figurine back and held it for a long time under the
glass; then he replaced it in the box. "Shall we play?" I asked.

He shook his head. "It would be sacrilege," he said, "to play at a game
with the figure of a goddess."

I packed the pieces back in the tiny box, which was also the playing
board, and returned it to my pouch. Pan Dan Chee sat silent. The light
of the single torch cast our shadows deep and dark upon the floor.

These torches of Horz were a revelation to me. They are most ingenious.

Cylindrical, they have a central core which glows brightly with a cold
light when exposed to the air. By turning back a hinged cap and pushing
the central core up with a thumb button, it becomes exposed to the air
and glows brightly.

The farther up it is pushed and the more of it that is exposed, the
more intense the light. Pan Dan Chee told me that they were invented
ages ago, and that the lighting results in so little loss of matter
that they are practically eternal.

The art of producing the central core was lost in far antiquity, and no
scientist since has been able to analyze its composition.

It was a long time before Pan Dan Chee spoke again; then he arose. He
looked tired and sad. "Come," he said, "let's have it over with," and
he drew his sword.

"Why should we fight?" I asked. "We are friends. If I go away, I pledge
my honor that I will not lead others to Horz. Let me go, then, in
peace. I do not wish to kill you. Or, better still, you come away with
me. There is much to see in the world outside of Horz and much to
adventure."

"Don't tempt me," he begged, "for I want to come. For the first time in
my life I want to leave Horz, but I may not. Come! John Carter. On
guard! One of us must die, unless you return willingly with me."

"In which case both of us will die," I reminded him. "It is very silly,
Pan Dan Chee."

"On guard!" was his only reply.

There was nothing for me to do but draw and defend myself. Never have I
drawn with less relish.




Chapter 7



Pan Dan Chee would not take the offensive, and he offered very little
in the way of defense. I could have run him through at any time that I
chose from the very instant that I drew my sword. Almost immediately I
realized that he was offering me my freedom at the expense of his own
life, but I would not take his life.

Finally I backed away and dropped my point. "I am no butcher, Pan Dan
Chee," I said. "Come! put up a fight."

He shook his head. "I cannot kill you," he said, quite simply.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I am a fool," he said. "The same blood flows in your veins and
hers. I could not spill that blood. I could not bring unhappiness to
her."

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about Llana of Gathol," he said, "the most beautiful
woman in the world, the woman I shall never see but for whom I gladly
offer my life."

Now, Martian fighting men are proverbially chivalrous to a fault, but
this was carrying it much further than I had ever seen it carried
before.

"Very well," I said; "and as I don't intend killing you there is no use
going on with this silly duel."

I returned my sword to its scabbard, and Pan Dan Chee did likewise.

"What shall we do?" he asked. "I cannot let you escape; but I on the
other hand, I cannot prevent it. I am a traitor to my country. I shall,
therefore, have to destroy myself."

I had a plan. I would accompany Pan Dan Chee back almost to the
entrance to the pits, and there I would overpower, bind, and gag him;
then I would make my escape, or at least I would try to find another
exit from the pits. Pan Dan Chee would be discovered, and could face
his doom without the stigma of treason being attached to his name.

"You need not kill yourself," I told him. "I will accompany you to the
entrance to the pits; but I warn you that should I discover an
opportunity to escape, I shall do so."

"That is fair enough," he said. "It is very generous of you. You have
made it possible for me to die honorably and content."

"Do you wish to die?" I asked.

"Certainly not," he assured me. "I wish to live. If I live, I may some
day find my way to Gathol."

"Why not come with me, then?" I demanded. "Together we may be able to
find our way out of the pits. My flier lies but a short distance from
the citadel, and it is only about four thousand haads from Horz to
Gathol."

He shook his head. "The temptation is great," he said, "but until I
have exhausted every resource and failed to return to Ho Ran Kim before
noon tomorrow I may do nothing else but try."

"Why by noon tomorrow?" I asked.

"It is a very ancient Orovaran law," he replied, "which limits the
duration of a death sentence to noon of the day one is condemned to
die. Ho Ran Kim decreed that we should die tomorrow. If we do not, we
are not in honor bound to return to him."

We set off a little dejectedly for the doorway through which we were
expected to pass to our doom. Of course, I had no intention of doing
so; but I was dejected because of Pan Dan Chee. I had come to like him
immensely. He was a man of high honor and a courageous fighter.

We walked on and on, until I became convinced that if we had followed
the right corridor we should long since have arrived at the entrance. I
suggested as much to Pan Dan Chee, and he agreed with me; then we
retraced our steps and tried another corridor. We kept this up until we
were all but exhausted, but we failed to find the right corridor.

"I am afraid we are lost," said Pan Dan Chee.

"I am quite sure of it," I agreed, with a smile. If we were
sufficiently well lost, we might not find the entrance before the next
noon; in which event Pan Dan Chee would be free to go where he pleased,
and I had a pretty good idea of where he pleased to go.

Now, I am no matchmaker; nor neither do I believe in standing in the
way to prevent the meeting of a man and a maid. I believe in letting
nature take her course. If Pan Dan Chee thought he was in love with
Llana of Gathol and wished to go to Gathol and try to win her, I would
only have discouraged the idea had he been a man of low origin or of a
dishonorable nature. He was neither. The race to which he belonged is
the oldest of the cultured races of Barsoom, and Pan Dan Chee had
proved himself a man of honor.

I had no reason to believe that his suit would meet with any success.
Llana of Gathol was still very young, but even so the swords of some of
the greatest houses of Barsoom had been lain at her feet. Like nearly
all Martian women of high degree she knew her mind. Like so many of
them, she might be abducted by some impetuous suitor; and she would
either love him or slip a dagger between his ribs, but she would never
mate with a man she did not love. I was more fearful for Pan Dan Chee
than I was for Llana of Gathol.

We retraced our steps and tried another corridor, yet still no
entrance. We lay down and rested; then we tried again. The result was
the same.

"It must be nearly morning," said Pan Dan Chee.

"It is," I said, consulting my chronometer. "It is almost noon."

Of course I didn't use the term noon; but rather the Barsoomian
equivalent, 25 xats past the 3rd zode, which is 12 noon Earth time.

"We must hurry!" exclaimed Pan Dan Chee.

A hollow laugh sounded behind us; and, turning quickly, we saw a light
in the distance. It disappeared immediately. "Why should we hurry?" I
demanded. "We have done the best we could. That we did not find our way
back to the citadel and death is no fault of ours."

Pan Dan Chee nodded. "And no matter how much we may hurry, there is
little likelihood that we shall ever find the entrance."

Of course this was wishful thinking, but it was also quite accurate
thinking. We never did find the entrance to the citadel.

"This is the second time we have heard that laugh and seen that light,"
said Pan Dan Chee. "I think we should investigate it. Perhaps he who
makes the light and voices the laugh may be able to direct us to the
entrance."

"I have no objection to investigating," I said, "but I doubt that we
shall find a friend if we find the author."

"It is most mystifying," said Pan Dan Chee. "All my life I have
believed, as all other inhabitants of Horz have believed, that the pits
of Horz were deserted. A long time ago, perhaps ages, some venturesome
men entered the pits to investigate them. These incursions occurred at
intervals, and none of those who entered the pits ever returned. It was
assumed that they became lost, and starved to death. Perhaps they, too,
heard the laughter and saw the lights!"

"Perhaps," I said.




Chapter 8



Pan Dan Chee and I lost all sense of time, so long were we in the pits
of Horz without food or water. It could not have been more than two
days, as we still had strength; and more than two days without water
will sap the strength of the best of men. Twice more we saw the light
and heard the laughter. That laugh! I can hear it yet. I tried to think
that it was human. I didn't want to go mad.

Pan Dan Chee said, "Let's find it and drink its blood!"

"No, Pan Dan Chee," I counselled. "We are men, not beasts."

"You are right," he said. "I was losing control."

"Let's use our heads," I said. "He knows always where we are, because
always he can see the light of our torch. Suppose we extinguish it, and
creep forward silently. If he has curiosity, he will investigate. We
shall listen attentively, and we shall hear his footfalls." I had it
all worked out beautifully, and Pan Dan Chee agreed that it was a
perfect plan. I think he still had in mind the drinking of the
creature's blood, when we should find it. I was approaching a point
when I might have taken a drink myself. God! If you have never suffered
from hunger and thirst, don't judge others too harshly.

We extinguished the torch. We each had one, but there was no use in
keeping both lighted. The light of one could have been raised to a
brilliancy that would have blinded. We crept silently forward in the
direction that we had last seen the light. Our swords were drawn. Three
times already we had been set upon by the huge ulsios of these ancient
pits of Horz, but at these times we had had the advantage of the light
of our torch. I could not but wonder how we would come out if one of
them attacked us now.

The darkness was total, and there was no sound. We clung to our weapons
so that they would not clank against our metal. We lifted our sandalled
feet high and placed them gently on the stone flooring. There was no
scuffing. There was no sound. We scarcely breathed.

Presently a light appeared before us. We halted, waiting, listening. I
saw a figure. Perhaps it was human, perhaps not. I touched Pan Dan Chee
lightly on the arm, and moved forward. He came with me. We made no
sound--absolutely no sound.

I think that we each held his breath.

The light grew brighter. Now I could see a head and shoulder protruding
from a doorway at the side of the corridor. The thing had the contour
of humanity at least. I could imagine that it was concerned over our
sudden disappearance. It was wondering what had become of us. It
withdrew within the doorway where it had stood, but the light
persisted. We could see it shining from the interior of the cell or
room into which the THING had withdrawn.

We crept closer. Here might lie the answer to our quest for water and
for food.

If the THING were human, it would require both; and if it had them, we
should have them.

Silently we approached the doorway from which the light streamed out
into the corridor. Our swords were drawn. I was in the lead. I felt
that if the THING had any warning of our approach, it would disappear.
That must not happen. We must see IT. We must seize IT, and we must
force IT to give us water--food and water!

I reached the doorway, and as I stepped into the opening I had a
momentary glimpse of a strange figure; and then all was plunged into
darkness and a hollow laugh reverberated through the Stygian blackness
of the pits of Horz.

In my right hand I held the long-sword of that long dead Orovaran from
whose body I had filched it. In my left hand I held the amazing torch
of the Horzians.

When the light in the chamber was extinguished, I pushed up the thumb
button of my torch; and the apartment before me was flooded with light.

I saw a large chamber filled with many chests. There was a simple
couch, a bench, a table, bookshelves filled with books, an ancient
Martian stove, a reservoir of water, and the strangest figure of a man
my eyes had ever rested upon.

I rushed at him and held my sword against his heart, for I did not wish
him to escape. He cowered and screamed, beseeching his life.

"We want water," I said; "water and food. Give us these and offer us no
harm, and you will be safe."

"Help yourselves," he said. "There is water and food here, but tell me
who you are and how you got here to the pits of ancient Horz, dead Horz
--dead for countless ages. I have been waiting for ages for some one to
come, and now you have come. You are welcome. We shall be great
friends. You shall stay here with me forever, as all the countless
others have. I shall have company in the lonely pits of Horz." Then he
laughed maniacally.

It was evident that the creature was quite mad. He not only looked it,
he acted it. Sometimes his speech was inarticulate gibber; often it was
broken by meaningless and inopportune laughter--the hollow laugh that
we had heard before.

His appearance was most repulsive. He was naked except for the harness
which supported a sword and a dagger, and the skin of his malformed
body was a ghastly white--the color of a corpse. His flabby mouth hung
open, revealing a few yellow, snaggled fangs. His eyes were wide and
round, the whites showing entirely around the irises. He had no nose;
it appeared to have been eaten away by disease.

I kept my eye on him constantly while Pan Dan Chee drank; then he
watched him while I slaked my thirst, and an the while the creature
kept up a running fire of senseless chatter. He would take a word like
calot, for instance, and keep repeating it over and over just as though
he were carrying on a conversation.

You could detect an interrogatory sentence by his inflection, as also
the declarative, imperative, and exclamatory. All the time, he kept
gesturing like a Fourth of July orator.

At last he said, "You seem very stupid, but eventually you may
understand. And now about food: You prefer your ulsio raw, I presume;
or shall I cook it?"

"Ulsio!" exclaimed Pan Dan Chee. "You don't mean to say that you eat
ulsio!"

"A great delicacy," said the creature.

"Have you nothing else?" demanded Pan Dan Chee.

"There is a little of Ro Tan Bim left," said the THING, "but he is
getting a bit high even for an epicure like me."

Pan Dan Chee looked at me. "I am not hungry," I said "Come! Let's try
to get out of here." I turned to the old man. "Which corridor leads out
into the city?" I asked.

"You must rest," he said; "then I will show you. Lie down upon that
couch and rest."

I had always heard that it is best to humor the insane; and as I was
asking a favor of this creature, it seemed the wise thing to do.
Furthermore, both Pan Dan Chee and I were very tired; so we lay down on
the couch and the old man drew up a bench and sat down beside us. He
commenced to talk in a low, soothing voice.

"You are very tired," he said, over and over again monotonously, his
great eyes fixed first upon one of us and then upon the other. I felt
my muscles relaxing.

I saw Pan Dan Chee's lids drooping. "Soon you will be asleep,"
whispered the old man of the pits. "You will sleep and sleep and sleep,
perhaps for ages as have these others. You will only awaken when I tell
you to or when I die--and I shall never die. You robbed Hor Kai Lan of
his harness and weapons." He looked at me as he spoke. "Hor Kai Lan
would be very angry were he to awaken and find that you have stolen his
weapons, but Hor Kai Lan will not awaken. He has been asleep for so
many ages that even I have forgotten. It is in my book, but what
difference does it make? What difference does it make who wears the
harness of Hor Kai Lan? No one will ever use his swords again; and,
anyway, when Ro Tan Bim is gone, maybe I shall use Hor Kai Lan. Maybe I
shall use you. Who knows?"

His voice was like a dreamy lullably. I felt myself sinking into
pleasant slumber. I glanced at Pan Dan Chee. He was fast asleep. And
then the import of the THING'S words reached my reasoning mind. By
hypnosis we were being condemned to a living death! I sought to shake
the lethargy from me. I brought to bear what remained to me of my will
power. Always my mind has been stronger than that of any Martian
against whose mind I have pitted it.

The horror of the situation lent me strength: the thought of lying here
for countless ages collecting the dust of the pits of Horz, or of being
eaten by this snaggled toothed maniac! I put every ounce of my will
power into a final, terrific effort to break the bonds that held me. It
was even more devastating than a physical effort. I broke out into
violent perspiration. I felt myself trembling from head to feet. Would
I succeed?

The old man evidently realized the battle I was making for freedom, as
he redoubled his efforts to hold me. His voice and his eyes wrapped
themselves about me with almost physical force. The THING was sweating
now, so strenuous were its endeavors to enthrall my mind. Would it
succeed?




Chapter 9



I was winning! I knew that I was winning! And the THING must have known
it, too; for I saw it slipping its dagger from the sheath at its side.
If it couldn't hold me in the semblance of death, it would hold me in
actual death. I sought to wrench myself free from the last weakening
tentacles of the THING'S malign mental forces before it could strike
the fatal blow that would spell death for me and the equivalent of
death for Pan Dan Chee.

The dagger hand rose above me. Those hideous eyes glared down into
mine, lighted by the Hellish fires of insanity; and then, in that last
instant, I won! I was free. I struck the dagger hand from me and leaped
to my feet, the good longsword of Hor Kai Lan already in my hand.

The THING cowered and screamed. It screamed for help where there was no
help, and then it drew its sword. I would not defile the fine art of my
swordsmanship by crossing blades with such as this. I recalled its
boast that Pan Dan Chee and I would sleep until it awoke us or it died.
That alone was enough to determine me--I would be no duelist, but an
executioner and a liberator.

I cut once, and the foul head rolled to the stone floor of the pits of
Horz. I looked at Pan Dan Chee. He was awakening. He rolled over and
stretched; then he sat up and looked at me, questioningly. His eyes
wandered to the torso and the head lying on the floor.

"What happened?" he asked.

Before I could reply, I was interrupted by a volley of sound coming
from the chamber in which we were and from other chambers in the pits
of Horz.

We looked quickly around us. Lids were being raised on innumerable
chests, and cries were coming from others the lids of which were held
down by the chests on top of them. Armed men were emerging--warriors
in gorgeous harness. Women, rubbing their eyes and looking about them
in bewilderment.

From the corridor others began to converge upon the chamber, guided by
our light.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded a large man, magnificently
trapped. "Who brought me here? Who are you?" He looked around him,
evidently bewildered, as though searching for some familiar face.

"Perhaps I can enlighten you?" I said. "We are in the pits of Horz. I
have been here only a few hours, but if this dead thing on the floor
spoke the truth some of you must have been here for ages. You have been
held by the hypnotic power of this mad creature. His death has freed
you."

The man looked down at the staring head upon the floor. "Lum Tar O!" he
exclaimed. "He sent for me--asked me to come and see him on an
important matter. And you have killed him. You must account to me--
tomorrow. Now I must return to my guests."

There was a layer of dust on the man's face and body. By that I knew
that he must have been here a long time, and presently my surmise was
substantiated in a most dramatic manner.

The awakened men and women were forcing their way from the chests in
which they had been kept. Some of those in the lower tiers were having
difficulty in dislodging the chests piled on top of them. There was a
great clattering and tumult as empty chests toppled to the floor. There
was a babel of conversation.

There were bewilderment and confusion.

A dusty nobleman crawled from one of the chests. Instantly he and the
large man who had just spoken recognized one another. "What is the
matter with you?" demanded the latter. "You are all covered with dust.
Why did you come down? Come! I must get back to my guests."

The other shook his head in evident bewilderment. "Your guests, Kam Han
Tor!" he exclaimed. "Did you expect your guests to wait twenty years
for you to return."

"Twenty years! What do you mean?"

"I was your guest twenty years ago. You left in the middle of the
banquet and never returned."

"Twenty years? You are mad!" exclaimed Kam Han Tor. He looked at me and
then at the grinning head upon the floor, and he commenced to weaken. I
could see it.

The other man was feeling of his own face and looking at the dust he
wiped from it. "You, too, are covered with dust," he said to Kam Han
Tor.

Kam Han Tor looked down at his body and harness; then he wiped his face
and looked at his fingers. "Twenty years!" he exclaimed, and then he
looked down at the head of Lum Tar O. "You vile beast!" he exclaimed.
"I was your friend, and you did this to me!" He turned then to me.
"Forget what I said. I did not understand. Whoever you may be, permit
me to assure you that my sword is always in your service."

I bowed in acknowledgment.

"Twenty years!" repeated Kam Han Tor, as though he still could not
believe it.

"My great ship! It was to have sailed from the harbor of Horz the day
following my banquet--the greatest ship that ever had been built. Now
it is old, perhaps obsolete; and I have never seen it. Tell me--did it
sail well? Is it still a proud ship?"

"I saw it as it sailed out upon Throxeus," said the other. "It was a
proud ship indeed, but it never returned from that first voyage; nor
was any word ever heard of it. It must have been lost with all hands."

Kam Han Tor shook his head sadly, and then he straightcned up and
squared his shoulders. "I shall build another," he said, "an even
greater ship, to sail the mightiest of Barsoom's five seas."

Now I commenced to understand what I had suspected but could not
believe. It was absolutely astounding. I was looking at and conversing
with men who had lived hundreds of thousands of years ago, when
Throxeus and the other four oceans of ancient Mars had covered what are
now the vast desert wastes of dead sea bottom; when a great merchant
marine carried on the commerce of the fair-skinned, blond race that had
supposedly been extinct for countless ages.

I stepped closer to Kam Han Tor and laid a hand upon his shoulder. The
men and women who had been released from Lum Tar O's malicious spell
had gathered around us, listening. "I am sorry to disillusion you, Kam
Han Tor," I said; "but you will build no ship, nor will any ship ever
again sail Throxeus."

"What do you mean. he demanded. "Who is to stop Kam Han Tor, brother of
the jeddak, from building ships and sailing them upon Throxeus?"

"There is no Throxeus, my friend," I said.

"No Throxeus? You are mad!"

"You have been here in the pits of Horz for countless ages," I
explained, "and during that time the five great oceans of Barsoom have
dried up. There are no oceans. There is no commerce. The race to which
you belonged is extinct."

"Man, you are mad!" he cried.

"Do you know how to get out of these pits?" I asked--"out into the
city proper--not up through the-" I was going to say citadel but I
recalled that there had been no citadel when these people had been
lured to the pits.

"You mean not up through my palace?" asked Kam Han Tor.

"Yes," I said, "not up through your palace, but out toward the quays;
then I can show you that there is no longer a Throxeus."

"Certainly I know the way," he said. "Were these pits not built
according to my plans!"

"Come, then," I said.

A man was standing looking down on the head of Lum Tar O. "If what this
man says is true," he said to Kam Han Tor, "Lum Tar O must have lived
many ages ago. How then could he have survived all these ages? How have
we survived?"

"You were existing in a state of suspended animation," I said; "but as
for Lum Tar O--that is a mystery."

"Perhaps not such a mystery after all," replied the man. "I knew Lum
Tar O well. He was a weakling and a coward with the psychological
reactions of the weakling and the coward. He hated all who were brave and
strong, and these he wished to harm. His only friend was Lee Um Lo, the
most famous embalmer the world had ever known; and when Lum Tar O died,
Lee Um Lo embalmed his body. Evidently he did such a magnificent job that
Lum Tar O's corpse never realized that Lum Tar O was dead, and went right
on functioning as in life. That would account for the great span of years
that the thing has existed--not a human being; not a live creature, at
all; just a corpse the malign brain of which still functioned."

As the man finished speaking there was a commotion at the entrance to
the chamber. A large man, almost naked, rushed in. He was very angry.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "What am I doing here? What
are you all doing here? Who stole my harness and my weapons?"

It was then that I recognized him--Hor Kai Lan, whose metal I wore. He
was very much excited, and I couldn't blame him much. He forced his way
through the crowd, and the moment he laid eyes upon me he recognized
his belongings.

"Thief!" he cried. "Give me back my harness and my weapons!"

"I'm sorry," I said; "but unless you will furnish me with others, I
shall have to keep these."

"Calot!" he fairly screamed. "Do you realize to whom you are speaking?
I am Hor Kai Lan, brother of the jeddak."

Kam Han Tor looked at him in amazement. "You have been dead over five
hundred years, Hor Kai Lan," he exclaimed, "and so has your brother. My
brother succeeded the last jeddak in the year 27M382J4."

"You have all been dead for ages," said Pan Dan Chee. "Even that
calendar is a thing of the dead past."

I thought Hor Kai Lan was going to burst a blood vessel then. "Who are
you?" he screamed. "I place you under arrest. I place you all under
arrest. Ho! the guard!"

Kam Han Tor tried to pacify him, and at least succeeded in getting him
to agree to accompany us to the quays to settle the question of the
existence of Throxeus, which would definitely prove or disprove the
unhappy truths I had been forced to explain to them.

As we started out, led by Kam Han Tor, I noticed the lid of a chest
moving slightly. It was raised little by little, and I could see two
eyes peering out through the crack made by the lifting of the lid; then
suddenly a girl's voice cried, "John Carter, Prince of Helium! May my
first ancestor be blessed!"




Chapter 10



Had my first ancestor suddenly materialized before my eyes, I could not
have been more surprised than I was to hear my name from the interior
of one of those chests in the pits of Horz.

As I started to investigate, the lid of the chest was thrown aside; and
a girl stepped out before me. This was more surprising than my first
ancestor would have been, for the girl was Llana of Gathol!

"Llana!" I cried; "what are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question, my revered progenitor," she shot
back, with that lack of respect for my great age which has always
characterized those closest to me in bonds of blood and affection.

Pan Dan Chee came forward rather open-mouthed and goggle-eyed. "Llana
of Gathol!" he whispered as one might voice the name of a goddess. The
roomful of anachronisms looked on more or less apathetically.

"Who is this person?" demanded Llana of Gathol.

"My friend, Pan Dan Chee of Horz," I explained.

Pan Dan Chee unbuckled his sword and laid it at her feet, an act which
is rather difficult to explain by Earthly standards of conduct. It is
not exactly an avowal of love or a proposal of marriage. It is, in a
way, something even more sacred. It means that as long as life lasts
that sword is at the service of him at whose feet it has been laid. A
warrior may lay his sword at the feet of a man or a woman. It means
lifetime loyalty. Where the object of that loyalty is a woman, the man
may have something else in mind. I am sure that Pan Dan Chee did.

"Your friend acts with amazing celerity," said Llana of Gathol; but she
stooped and picked up the sword and handed it back to Pan Dan Chee hilt
first! which meant that she was pleased and accepted his offer of
fealty. Had she simply refused it, she would have left the sword lying
where it had been placed. Had she wished to spurn his offer, she would
have returned his sword to him point first. That would have been the
final and deadly insult. I was glad that Llana of Gathol had returned
Pan Dan Chee's sword hilt first, as I rather liked Pan Dan Chee. I was
particularly glad that she had not returned it point first; as that
would have meant that I, as the closest mate relative of Llana of
Gathol available, would have had to fight Pan Dan Chee; and I certainly
didn't want to kill him.

"Well," interrupted Kam Han Tor, "this is all very interesting and
touching; but can't we postpone it until we have gone down to the
quays."

Pan Dan Chee bridled, and laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. I
forestalled any unseemly action on his part by suggesting that Kam Han
Tor was wholly right and that our private affairs could wait until the
matter of the ocean, so vital to all these other people, had been
settled. Pan Dan Chee agreed; so we started again for the quay of
ancient Horz.

Llana of Gathol walked at my side. "Now you may tell me," I said, "how
you came to be in the pits of Horz."

"It has been many years," she began, "since you were in the kingdom of
Okar in the frozen north. Talu, the rebel prince, whom you placed upon
the throne of Okar, visited Helium once immediately thereafter. Since
then, as far as I have ever heard, there has been no intercourse
between Okar and the rest of Barsoom."

"What has all that to do with your being in the pits of Horz?" I
demanded.

"Wait"' she admonished. "I am leading up to that. The general belief
has been that the region surrounding the North Pole is but sparsely
inhabited and by a race of black-bearded yellow men only."

"Correct," I said.

"Not correct," she contradicted. "There is a nation of red men
occupying a considerable area, but at some distance from Okar. I am
under the impression that when you were there the Okarians themselves
had never heard of these people.

"Recently there came to the court of my father, Gahan of Gathol, a
strange red man. He was like us, yet unlike. He came in an ancient
ship, one which my father said must have been several hundred years old
--obsolete in every respect. It was manned by a hundred warriors, whose
harness and metal were unknown to us. They appeared fierce and warlike,
but they came in peace and were received in peace.

"Their leader, whose name was Hin Abtol, was a pompous braggart. He was
an uncultured boor; but, as our guest, he was accorded every courtesy.
He said that he was Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North. My father said that
he had thought that Talu held that title.

"'He did,' replied Hin Abtol, 'until I conquered his country and made
him my vassal. Now I am Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North. My country is
cold and bleak outside our glazed cities. I would come south, looking
for other lands in which my people may settle and increase.' "My father
told him that all the arable lands were settled and belonged to other
nations which had held them for centuries.

"Hin Abtol merely shrugged superciliously. 'When I find what I wish,'
he said, 'I shall conquer its people. I, Hin Abtol, take what I wish
from the lesser peoples of Barsoom. From what I have heard, they are
all weak and effete; not hardy and warlike as are we Panars. We breed
fighting men, in addition to which we have countless mercenaries. I
could conquer all of Barsoom, if I chose.' "Naturally, that sort of
talk disgusted my father; but he kept his temper, for Hin Abtol was his
guest. I suppose that Hin Abtol thought that my father feared him, his
kind often believing that politeness is a sign of weakness. I know he
once said to my father, 'You are fortunate that Hin Abtol is your
friend. Other nations may fall before my armies, but you shall be
allowed to keep your throne. Perhaps I shall demand a little tribute from
you, but you will be safe. Hin Abtol will protect you.' "I do not know how
my father controlled his temper. I was furious. A dozen times I insulted
the fellow, but he was too much of an egotistical boor to realize that he
was being insulted; then came the last straw. He told Gahan of Gathol had
decided to honor him by taking me, Llana of as his wife. He had already
bragged that he had seven!

"'That,' said my father, 'is a matter that I cannot discuss with you.
The daughter of Gahan of Gathol will choose her own mate.' "Hin Abtol
laughed. 'Hin Abtol,' he said, 'chooses his wives--they have nothing
to say about it.' "Well, I had stood about all I could of the fellow;
and so I decided to go to Helium and visit you and Dejah Thoris. My
father decided that I should go in a small flier manned by twenty-five
of his most trusted men, all members of my personal Guard.

"When Hin Abtol heard that I was leaving, he said that he would have to
leave also--that he was returning to his own country but that he would
come back for me. 'And I hope we have no trouble about it,' he said,
'for it would be too bad for Gathol if she made an enemy of Hin Abtol
the Panar, Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North.' "He left the day before I
set out, and I did not change my plans because of his going. As a
matter of fact, I had been planning on this visit for some time.

"My ship had covered scarce a hundred haads on the journey toward
Helium, when we saw a ship rise from the edge of a sorapus forest ahead
of us. It came slowly toward us, and presently I recognized its ancient
lines. It was the ship of Hin Abtol the Panar, so-called Jeddak of
Jeddaks of the North.

"When we were close enough it hailed us, and its captain told us that
something had gone wrong with their compass and they were lost. He
asked to come alongside that he might examine our charts and get his
bearings. He hoped, he said, that we might repair his compass for him.

"Under the circumstances there was nothing to do but accede to his
request, as one does not leave a disabled ship without offering aid. As
I did not wish to see Hin Abtol, I went below to my cabin.

"I felt the two ships touch as that of the Panar came alongside, and an
instant later I heard shouts and curses and the sounds of battle on the
upper deck.

"I rushed up the ladder, and the sight that met my eyes filled me with
rage. Nearly a hundred warriors swarmed over our deck from Hin Abtol's
ancient tub. I have never seen greater brutality displayed by even the
green men. The beasts ignored the commonest ethics of civilized
warfare. Outnumbering us four to one, we had not a chance; but the men
of Gathol put up a most noble fight, taking bloody toll of their
attackers; so that Hin Abtol must have lost fully fifty men before the
last of my brave Guard was slaughtered.

"The Panars threw my wounded overboard with the dead, not even
vouchsafing them the coup de grace. Of all my crew, not one was left
alive.

"Then Hin Abtol swaggered aboard. 'I told you,' he said, 'that Hin
Abtol chooses his wives. It would have been better for you and for
Gathol had you believed me.' "'It would have been better for you,' I
replied, 'had you never heard of Llana of Gathol. You may rest assured
that her death will be avenged.' "'I do not intend to kill you,' he
said.

"'I shall kill myself,' I told him, 'before I shall mate with such an
ulsio as you.' "That made him angry, and he struck me. 'A coward as
well as an ulsio,' I said.

"He did not strike me again, but he ordered me below. In my cabin I
realized that the ship was again under way, and looking from the port I
saw that it was heading north--north toward the frozen land of the
Panars."




Chapter 11



"Early the following morning, a warrior came to my cabin. 'Hin Abtol
commands that you come at once to the control room,' he said.

"'What does he want of me?' I demanded.

"'His navigator does not understand this ship or the instruments,' the
fellow explained. 'He would ask you some questions.' "I thought
quickly. Perhaps I might frustrate Hin Abtol's plans if I could have a
few minutes with the controls and the instruments, which I knew as well
as we know the face of a loved one; so I followed the warrior above.

"Hin Abtol was in the control room with three of his officers. His face
was a black scowl as I entered. 'We are off our course,' he snapped,
'and during the night we have lost touch with our own ship. You will
instruct my officers as to these silly instruments that have confused
them.' With that, he left the control room.

"I looked around the horizon in every direction. The other ship was
nowhere in sight. My plan was instantly formed. Had the other ship been
able to see us, it could not have succeeded. I knew that if this ship
on which I was prisoner ever reached Panar I would have to take my own
life to escape a fate worse than death. On the ground I might also meet
death, but I would have a better chance to escape.

"'What is wrong?' I asked one of the officers.

"'Everything,' he replied. 'What is this?' "'A directional compass,' I
explained; 'but what have you done to it? It is a wreck.' "'Hin Abtol
could not understand what it was for, which made him very angry; so he
started taking it apart to see what was inside.' "'He did a good job,'
I said, '-of taking it apart. Now he, or another of you, should put it
together again.' "'We don't know how,' said the fellow. 'Do you?' "'Of
course not."

"'Then what are we to do?' "'Here is an ordinary compass,' I told him.
'Fly north by this, but first let me see what other harm has been
done.' "I pretended to examine all the other instruments and controls,
and while I was doing so, I opened the buoyancy tank valves; and then
jammed them so that they couldn't be closed.

"'Everything is all right now,' I said. 'Just keep on north by this
compass. You won't need the directional compass.' I might have added
that in a very short time they wouldn't need any compass as far as
navigating this ship was concerned. Then I went down to my cabin.

"I knew that something would happen pretty soon, and sure enough it
did. I could see from my porthole that we were losing altitude--just
dropping slowly lower and lower--and directly another warrior came to
my cabin and said that I was wanted in the control room again.

"Once more Hin Abtol was there. 'We are sinking,' he told me--a fact
that was too obvious to need mention. 'I have noticed that for some time,'
I said.

"'Well, do something about it!' he snapped. 'You know all about this
ship.' "'I should think that a man who is thinking of conquering all of
Barsoom ought to be able to fly a ship without the help of a woman,' I
said.

"He flushed at that, and then he drew his sword. 'You will tell us what
is wrong,' he growled, 'Or I'll split you open from your crown to your
belly.' "'Always the chivalrous gentleman,' I sneered; 'but, even
without your threat, I'll tell you what is wrong.' "'Well, what is it?'
he demanded.

"In fiddling around with these controls, either you or some equally
stupid brute has opened the buoyancy tank valves. All you have to do is
close them. We won't sink any lower then, but we'll never go any
higher, either. I hope there are no mountains or very high hills
between here and Panar.' "'Where are the valves?' he asked.

"I showed him.

"They tried to close them; but I had made such a good job of jamming
them that they couldn't, and we kept right on dropping down toward the
ocher vegetation of a dead sea bottom.

"Hin Abtol was frantic. So were his officers. Here they were, thousands
of haads from home--twenty-five men who had spent the greater parts of
their lives in the glazed, hothouse cities of the North Polar lands,
with no knowledge, or very little, of the outside world or what nature
of men, beasts, or other menaces might dispute their way toward home. I
could scarcely refrain from laughing.

"As we lost altitude, I saw the towers of a city in the distance to the
north of us; so did Hin Abtol. 'A city,' he said. 'We are fortunate.
There we can find mechanics to repair our ship.' "'Yes,' I thought; 'if
you had come a million years ago, you would have found mechanics. They
would have known nothing about repairing a flier, for fliers had not
been invented then; but they could have built you a stanch ship wherein
you could have sailed the five seas of ancient Barsoom,' but I said
nothing. I would let Hin Abtol find out for himself.

"I had never been to Horz; but I knew that those towers rising in the
distance could mark only that long dead city, and I wished the pleasure
of witnessing Hin Abtol's disappointment after he had made the long and
useless trek."

"You are a vindictive little rascal," I said.

"I'm afraid I am," admitted Llana of Gathol; "but, in this instance,
can you blame me?"

I had to admit that I could not. "Go on," I urged. "Tell me what
happened next."

"Will we never reach the end of these abominable pits!" exclaimed Kam
Han Tor.

"You should know," said Pan Dan Chee; "you have said that they were
built according to your plans."

"You are insolent," snapped Kam Han Tor. "You shall be punished."

"You have been dead a million years," said Pan Dan Chee. "You should
lie down."

Kam Han Tor laid a hand upon the hilt of his longsword. He was very
angry; and I could not blame him, but this was no time to indulge in
the pleasure of a duel.

"Hold!" I said. "We have more important things to think of now than
personal quarrels, Pan Dan Chee is in the wrong. He will apologize."

Pan Dan Chee looked at me in surprise and disapproval, but he pushed
his sword back into its scabbard. "What John Carter, Prince of Helium,
Warlord of Barsoom, commands me to do, I do," he said. "To Kam Han Tor
I offer my apology."

Well, Kam Han Tor graciously accepted it, and I urged Llana of Gathol
to go on with her story.

"The ship dropped gently to the ground without incurring further
damage," she continued, "Hin Abtol was undecided at first as whether to
take all his men with him to the city or leave some to guard the ship.
Finally he concluded that it might be better for them all to remain
together in the event they should meet with a hostile reception at the
gates of the city. You would have thought, from the way he spoke, that
twenty-five Panars could take any city on Barsoom.

"'I shall wait for you here,' I said. 'There is no reason why I should
accompany you to the city.' "'And when I came back, you would be gone,'
he said. 'You are a shrewd wench, but I am just a little bit shrewder.
You will come with us.' "So I had to tramp all the way to Horz with
them, and it was a very long and tiresome tramp. As we approached the
city, Hin Abtol remarked that it was surprising that we saw no signs of
life--no smoke, no movement along the avenue which we could see
paralleling the plain upon which the city faced, the plain that had
once been a mighty ocean.

"It was not until we had entered the city that he realized that it was
dead and deserted--but not entirely deserted, as we were soon to
discover.

"We had advanced but a short distance up the main avenue when a dozen
green warriors emerged from a building and fell upon the Panars. It
might have been a good battle, John Carter, had you and two of the
warriors of your guard been pitted against the green men; but these
Panars are no warriors unless the odds are all on their side. Of course
they outnumbered the green men, but the great size and strength and the
savage ferocity of the latter gave them the advantage over such weak
foemen.

"I saw but little of the light. The contestants paid no attention to
me. They were too engrossed with one another; and as I saw the head of
a ramp close by, I dodged into it. The last I saw of the engagement
revealed Hin Abtol running at the top of his speed back toward the
plain with his men trailing behind him and the green men bringing up
the rear. For the sublimation of speed, I accord all honors to the
Panars. They may not be able to fight, but they can run."




Chapter 12



"Knowing that the green men would return for their thoats and that I
must, therefore, hide, I descended the ramp," Llana went on. "It led
into the pits beneath the city. I intended going in only far enough to
avoid discovery from above and to have a head start should the green
men come down the ramp in search of me; as I knew they might--they
would not quickly forego an opportunity to capture a red woman for
torture or slavery.

"I had gone down to the end of the ramp and a short distance along a
corridor, when I saw a dim light far ahead. I thought this worth
investigating, as I did not wish to be taken unexpectedly from behind
and, perhaps, caught between two enemies; so I followed the corridor in
the direction of the light, which I presently discovered was
retreating. However, I continued to follow it, until presently it
stopped in a room filled with chests.

"Looking in, I saw a creature of most horrid mein--"

"Lum Tar O," I said. "The creature I killed."

"Yes," said Llana. "I watched him for a moment, not knowing what to do.
A lighted torch illuminated the chamber. He carried another in his left
hand. Presently he became alert. He seemed to be listening intently; then
he crept from the room."

"That must have been when he first heard Pan Dan Chee and me," I
suggested.

"I presume so," said Llana of Gathol. "Anyway, I was left alone in the
room. If I went back the way I had come, I might run into the arms of a
green man. If I followed the horrid creature I had just seen, I would
doubtless be in just as bad a fix. If I only had a place to hide until
it would be safe to come out of the pits the way I had entered!

"The chests looked inviting. One of them would provide an excellent
hiding place. It was just by the merest chance that the first one I
opened was empty. I crept into it and lowered the lid above me. The
rest you know."

"And now you are coming out of the pits," I said, as we started up a
ramp at the top of which I could see daylight.

"In a few moments," said Kam Han Tor, "we shall be looking upon the
broad waters of Throxeus."

I shook my head. "Do not be too disappointed," I said.

"Are you and your friend in league to perpetrate a hoax upon me?"
demanded Kan Han Tor. "Only yesterday I saw the ships of the fleet
lying at anchor off the quay. Do you think me a fool, that you tell me
there is no longer any ocean where an ocean was yesterday, where it has
been since the creation of Barsoom? Oceans do not disappear overnight,
my friend."

There was a murmur of approval from those of the fine company of nobles
and their women who were within earshot. They were loath to believe
what they did not wish to believe and what, I realized, must have
seemed an insult to their intelligence.

Put yourself in their place. Perhaps you live in San Francisco. You go
to bed one night. When you awaken, a total stranger tells you that the
Pacific Ocean has dried up and that you may walk to Honolulu or Guam or
the Philippines. I'm quite sure that you wouldn't believe him.

As we came up into the broad avenue that led to the ancient sea front
of Horz, that assembly of gorgeously trapped men and women looked about
them in dumfounded astonishment upon the crumbling ruins of their once
proud city.

"Where are the people?" demanded one. "Why is the Avenue of Jeddaks
deserted?"

"And the palace of the jeddak!" exclaimed another. "There are no
guards."

"There is no one!" gasped a woman.

No one commented, as they pushed on eagerly toward the quay. Before
they got there they were already straining their eyes out across a
barren desert of dead sea bottom where once the waters of Throxeus had
rolled.

In silence they continued on to the Avenue of Quays. They simply could
not believe the testimony of their own eyes. I cannot recall ever
having felt sorrier for any of my fellow men than I did at that moment
for these poor people.

"It is gone," said Kam Han Tor in a scarcely audible whisper.

A woman sobbed. A warrior drew his dagger and plunged it into his own
heart.

"And a our people are gone," said Kam Han Tor. "Our very world is
gone."

They stood there looking out across that desert waste; behind them a
dead city that, in their last yesterday, had teemed with life and youth
and energy.

And then a strange thing happened. Before my eyes, Kam Han Tor
commenced to shrink and crumble. He literally disintegrated, he and the
leather of his harness. His weapons clattered to the pavement and lay
there in a little pile of dust that had been Kam Han Tor, the brother
of a jeddak.

Llana of Gathol pressed close to me and seized my arm. "It is
horrible!" she whispered. "Look! Look at the others!"

I looked about me. Singly, in groups of two or three, the men and women
of ancient Horz were returning to the dust from which they had sprung--
"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!"

"For all the ages that they have lain in the pits of Horz," said Pan
Dan Chee, "this disintegration has been going slowly on. Only Lum Tar
O's obscene powers gave them a semblance of life. With that removed
final dissolution came quickly."

"That must be the explanation," I said. "It is well that it is so, for
these people never could have found happiness in the Barsoom of today--
a dying world, so unlike the glorious world of Barsoom in the full
flush of her prime, with her five oceans, her great cities, her happy,
prosperous peoples, who, if history speaks the truth, had finally
overthrown all the war lords and war mongers and established peace from
pole to pole."

"No," said Llana of Gathol, "they could never have been happy again.
Did you notice what handsome people they were? and the color of their
skins was the same as yours, John Carter. But for their blond hair they
might have been from your own Earth."

"There are many blond people on Earth," I told her. "Maybe, after all
the races of Earth have intermarried for many ages, we shall develop a
race of red men, as has Barsoom. Who knows?"

Pan Dan Chee was standing looking adoringly at Llana of Gathol. He was
so obvious that it was almost painful, and I could see that it annoyed
Llana even while it pleased her.

"Come," I said. "Nothing is to be gained by standing here. My flier is
in a courtyard nearby. It will carry three. You will come with me, Pan
Dan Chee? I can assure you a welcome in Helium and a post of some
nature in the army of the jeddak."

Pan Dan Chee shook his head. "I must go back to the Citadel," he said.

"To Ho Ran Kim and death," I reminded him.

"Yes, to Ho Ran Kim and death," he said.

"Don't be a fool, Pan Dan Chee," I said. "You have acquitted yourself
honorably. You cannot kill me, and I know you would not kill Llana of
Gathol. We shall go away, carrying the secret of the forgotten people of
Horz with us, no matter what you do; but you must know that neither of us
would use our knowledge to bring harm to your people. Why then go back to
your death uselessly? Come with us."

He looked straight into the eyes of Llana of Gathol. "Is it your wish
that I come with you?" he asked.

"If the alternative means your death," she replied; "then it is my wish
that you come with us."

A wry smile twisted Pan Dan Chee's lip, but evidently he saw a ray of
hope in her noncommittal answer, for he said to me, "I thank you, John
Carter. I will go with you. My sword is yours, always."




Chapter 13



I had no difficulty in locating the courtyard where I had landed and
left my flier. As we approached it, I saw a number of dead men lying in
the avenue. They were sprawled in the grotesque postures of death. Some
of them were split wide open from their crowns to their bellies. "The
work of green men," I said.

"These were the men of Hin Abtol," said Llana of Gathol.

We counted seventeen corpses before we reached the entrance to the
courtyard.

When I looked in, I stopped, appalled--my flier was not there; but
five more dead Panars lay near where it had stood.

"It is gone," I said.

"Hin Abtol," said Llana of Gathol. "The coward abandoned his men and
fled in your flier. Only two of his warriors succeeded in accompanying
him."

"Perhaps he would have been a fool to remain," I said. "He would only
have met the same death that they met."

"In like circumstances, John Carter would have been a fool, then," she
shot back.

Perhaps I would, for the truth of the matter is that I like to fight. I
suppose it is all wrong, but I cannot help it. Fighting has been my
profession during all the life that I can recall. I fought all during
the Civil War in the Confederate Army. I fought in other wars before
that. I will not bore you with my autobiography. Suffice it to say that
I have always been fighting. I do not know how old I am. I recall no
childhood. I have always appeared to be about thirty years old. I still
do. I do not know from whence I came, nor if I were born of woman as
are other men. I have, so far as I know, simply always been.

Perhaps I am the materialization of some long dead warrior of another
age. Who knows? That might explain my ability to cross the cold, dark
void of space which separates Earth from Mars. I do not know.

Pan Dan Chee broke the spell of my reverie. "What now?" he asked.

"A long walk," I said. "It is fully four thousand haads from here to
Gathol, the nearest friendly city." That would be the equivalent of
fifteen hundred miles--a very long walk.

"And only this desert from which to look for subsistence?" asked Pan
Dan Chee.

"There will be hills," I told him. "There will be deep little ravines
where moisture lingers and things grow which we can eat; but there may
be green men, and there will certainly be banths and other beasts of
prey. Are you afraid, Pan Dan Chee?"

"Yes," he said, "but only for Llana of Gathol. She is a woman--it is
no adventure for a woman. Perhaps she could not survive it."

Llana of Gathol laughed. "You do not know the women of Helium," she
said, "and still less one in whose veins flows the blood of Dejah
Thoris and John Carter. Perhaps you will learn before we have reached
Gathol." She stooped and stripped the harness and weapons of a dead Panar
from his corpse and buckled them upon herself. The act was more eloquent
than words.

"Now we are three good sword arms," said Pan Dan Chee with a laugh, but
we knew that he was not laughing at Llana of Gathol but from admiration
of her.

And so we set out, the three of us, on that long trek toward far Gathol
--Llana of Gathol and I, of one blood and two worlds, and Pan Dan Chee
of still another blood and of an extinct world. We might have seemed
ill assorted, but no three people could have been more in harmony with
each other--at least at first.

For five days we saw no living thing. We subsisted entirely upon the
milk of the mantalia plant, which grows apparently without water,
distilling its plentiful supply of milk from the products of the soil,
the slight moisture in the air, and the rays of the sun. A single plant
of this species will give eight or ten quarts of milk a day. They are
scattered across the dead sea bottoms as though by a beneficent
Providence, giving both food and drink to man and beast.

My companions might still have died of thirst or starvation had I not
been with them, for neither knew that the quite ordinary looking plants
which we occasionally passed carried in their stems and branches this
life-giving fluid.

We rested in the middle of the day and slept during the middle portion
of the nights, taking turns standing guard--a duty which Llana of
Gathol insisted on sharing with us.

When we lay down to rest on the sixth night, Llana had the first watch;
and as I had the second, I prepared to sleep at once. Pan Dan Chee sat
up and talked with Llana.

As I dozed off, I heard him say, "May I call you my princess?"

That, on Barsoom, is the equivalent of a proposal of marriage on Earth.
I tried to shut my ears and go to sleep, but I could not but hear her
reply.

"You have not fought for me yet," she said, "and no man may presume to
claim a woman of Helium until he has proved his metal."

"I have had no opportunity to fight for you," he said.

"Then wait until you have," she said, shortly; "and now good-night."

I thought she was a little too short with him. Pan Dan Chee is a nice
fellow, and I was sure that he would give a good account of himself
when the opportunity arose. She didn't have to treat him as though he
were scum. But then, women have their own ways. As a rule they are
unpleasant ways, but they seem the proper ways to win men; so I suppose
they must be all right.

Pan Dan Chee walked off a few paces and lay down on the other side of
Llana of Gathol. We always managed to keep her between us at all times
for her greater protection.

I was awakened later on by a shout and a hideous roar. I leaped to my
feet to see Llana of Gathol down on the ground with a huge banth on top
of her, and at that instant Pan Dan Chee leaped full upon the back of
the mighty carnivore.

It all happened so quickly that I can scarcely visualize it all. I saw
Pan Dan Chee dragging at the great beast in an effort to pull it from
Llana's body, and at the same he was plunging his dagger into its side.
The banth was roaring hideously as it tried to fight off Pan Dan Chee
and at the same time retain its hold upon Llana.

I sprang close in with my short-sword, but it was difficult to find an
opening which did not endanger either Llana or Pan Dan Chee. It must
have been a very amusing sight; as the four of us were threshing around
on the ground, all mixed up, and the banth was roaring and Pan Dan Chee
was cursing like a trooper when he wasn't trying to tell Llana of
Gathol how much he loved her.

But at last I got an opening, and drove my short-sword into the heart
of the banth. With a final scream and a convulsive shudder, the beast
rolled over and lay still.

When I tried to lift Llana from the ground, she leaped to her feet.
"Pan Dan Chee!" she cried. "Is he all right? Was he hurt?"

"Of course I'm all right," said Pan Dan Chee; "but you? How badly are
you hurt?"

"I am not hurt at all. You kept the brute so busy it didn't have a
chance to maul me."

"Thanks be to my ancestors!" exclaimed Pan Dan Chee fervently. Suddenly
he turned on her. "Now," he said, "I have fought for you. What is your
answer?"

Llana of Gathol shrugged her pretty shoulders. "You have not fought a
man," she said, "-just a little banth."

Well, I never did understand women.





BOOK 2. THE BLACK PIRATES OF BARSOOM




Chapter 1



In my former life on earth I spent more time in the saddle than I did
on foot, and since I have been here on the Planet of Barsoom I have
spent much time in the saddle or on the swift fliers of the Navy of
Helium; so naturally I did not look forward with any great amount of
pleasure to walking fifteen hundred miles.

However, it had to be done; and when a thing has to be done the best
plan is to get at it, stick to it, and get it over with as quickly as
possible.

Gathol is southwest of Horz; but, having no compass and no landmarks, I
went, as I discovered later, a little too far to the West. Had I not
done so we might have been saved some very harrowing experiences.
Although, if my past life is any criterion, we would have found plenty
of other adventures.

We had covered some two thousand five hundred haads of the four
thousand we had to travel, or at least as nearly as I could compute it,
with a minimum of untoward incidents. On two occasions we had been
attacked by banths but had managed to kill them before they could harm
us; and we had been attacked by a band of wild calots, but fortunately
we had met no human beings--of all the creatures of Barsoom the most
dangerous. For here, outside of your own country or the countries of
your allies, every man is your enemy and bent upon destroying you; nor
is it strange upon a dying world the natural resources of which have
dwindled almost to the vanishing point and even air and water are only
barely sufficient to meet the requirements of the present population.

The vast stretches of dead sea bottom, covered with its ocher
vegetation, which we traversed were broken only occasionally by low
hills. Here in shaded ravines we sometimes found edible roots and
tubers. But for the most part we subsisted upon the milk-like sap of
the mantalia bush, which grows on the dead sea bottom, though in no
great profusion.

We had tried to keep track of the days, and it was on the
thirty-seventh day that we encountered really serious trouble. It was
the fourth zode, which is roughly about one P.M. Earth time, that we
saw in the distance and to our left what I instantly recognized as a
caravan of green Martians.

As no fate can be worse than falling into the hands of these cruel
monsters, we hurried on in the hope of crossing their path before we
were discovered. We took advantage of what cover the sea bottom
afforded us, which was very little; oftentimes compelling us to worm
our way along on our bellies, an art which I had learned from the
Apaches of Arizona. I was in the lead, when I came upon a human
skeleton. It was crumbling to dust, an indication that it must have
lain there for many years, for so low is the humidity on Mars that
disintegration of bony structures is extremely slow. Within fifty yards
I came upon another skeleton and after that we saw many of them. It was
a gruesome sight, and what it portended I could not guess. At first I
thought that perhaps a battle had once been fought here, but when I saw
that some of these skeletons were fresh and well preserved and that
others had already started to disintegrate I realized that these men
had died many years apart.

At last I felt that we had crossed the line of march of the caravan and
that as soon as we had found a hiding place we would be comparatively
safe, and just then I came to the edge of a yawning chasm.

Except for the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, I had never seen anything
like it.

It was a great rift valley that appeared to be about ten miles wide and
perhaps two miles deep, extending for miles in either direction.

There were outcroppings of rock at the rim of the rift, and behind
these we hid.

Scattered about us were more human skeletons than we had seen before.
Perhaps they were a warning; but at least they could not harm us, and
so we turned our attention to the approaching caravan, which had now
changed its direction a little and was coming straight toward us.
Hoping against hope that they would again change their direction and
pass us, we lay there watching them.

When I had been first miraculously transported to Mars I had been
captured by a horde of green men, and I had lived with them for a long
time; so that I learned to know their customs well. Therefore, I was
quite positive that this caravan was making the quinquennial pilgrimage
of the horde to its hidden incubator.

Each adult Martian female brings forth about thirteen eggs each year;
and those which reach the correct size, weight and specific gravity are
hidden in the recesses of some subterranean vault where the temperature
is too low for incubation. Every year these eggs are carefully examined
by a counsel of twenty chieftains, and all but about one hundred of the
most perfect are destroyed out of each yearly supply. At the end of
five years about five hundred almost perfect eggs have been chosen from
the thousands brought forth. These are then placed in the almost
air-tight incubators to be hatched by the sun's rays after a period of
another five years.

All but about one per cent of the eggs hatch, and these are left behind
when the horde departs from the incubator. If these eggs hatch, the
fate of those abandoned little Martians is unknown. They are not
wanted, as their offspring might inherit and transmit the tendency to
prolonged incubation and thus upset the system which has been
maintained for ages and which permits the adult Martians to figure the
proper time for return to the incubator almost to an hour.

The incubators are built in remote fastnesses where there is little or
no likelihood of their being discovered by other tribes. The result of
such a catastrophe would mean no children in the community for another
five years.

The green Martians' caravan is a gorgeous and barbaric thing to see. In
this one were some two hundred and fifty enormous three wheeled
chariots drawn by huge mastodonian animals known as zitidars, any one
of which from their appearance might easily have drawn the entire train
when fully loaded.

The chariots themselves were large, commodious and gorgeously
decorated; in each was seated a female Martian loaded with ornaments of
metal, with jewels and silks and furs; and upon the back of each of the
zitidars a young Martian driver was perched on top of gorgeous
trappings.

At the head of the caravan rode some two hundred warriors, five
abreast; and a like number brought up the rear. About twenty-five or
thirty out-riders flanked the chariots on either side.

The mounts of the warriors defy description in earthly words. They
towered ten feet at the shoulder, had four legs on either side, a broad
flat tail, larger at the tip than at the root, which they held straight
out behind while running; a gaping mouth which splits the head from the
snout to the long, massive neck.

Like their huge masters, they are entirely devoid of hair, but are a
dark slate color and are exceedingly smooth and glossy. Their bellies
are white and their legs shaded from the slate of the shoulders and
hips to a vivid yellow at the feet. The feet themselves are heavily
padded and nailless. Like the zitidars they wear neither bit nor
bridle, but are guided entirely by telepathic means.

As we watched this truly magnificent and impressive cortege, it changed
direction again; and I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that they
were going to pass us. Evidently, from the backs of their lofty mounts,
they had seen the rift and were now moving parallel with it.

My relief was to be short-lived, for as the rear of the caravan was
about to pass us one of the flankers spied us.




Chapter 2



Instantly the fellow wheeled his thoat and, shouting to his companions,
came galloping toward us. We sprang to our feet with drawn swords,
expecting to die; but ready to sell our lives dearly.

A moment after we had gained our feet, Llana exclaimed, "Look! Here is
a trail down into the valley."

I looked around. Sure enough, now that we were standing erect, I could
see the head of a narrow, precipitous trail leading down over the edge
of the cliff. If we could but reach it, we would be safe, for the great
thoats and zitidars of the green men could not possibly negotiate it.
It was very possible that the green men were not even aware of the
presence of the rift before they had come suddenly upon it, and this is
entirely possible; because they build their incubators in uninhabited
and unexplored wildernesses sometimes as much as a thousand miles from
their own stamping grounds.

As the three of us, Llana, Pan Dan Chee, and I, ran for the trail, I
glanced over my shoulder and saw that the leading warrior was almost on
top of us and that we could not all reach the trail. So I called to Pan
Dan Chee to hurry down it with Llana. They both stopped and turned
toward me.

"It is a command," I told them. Reluctantly they turned and continued
on toward the end of the trail, while I wheeled and faced the warrior.

He had stopped his thoat and dismounted, evidently intent upon
capturing me rather than killing me; but I had no mind to be captured
for torture and eventual death. It was far better to die now.

He drew his long-sword as he came toward me and I did likewise. Had
there not been six of his fellows galloping up on their huge thoats I
should not have worried greatly, for with a sword I am a match for any
green Martian that was ever hatched. Even their great size gives them
no advantage. Perhaps it handicaps them, for their movements are slow
and ponderous by comparison with my earthly agility; and though they
are twice my size, I am fully as strong as they. The muscles of earthly
man have not contended with the force of gravity since the dawn of
humanity for nothing. It has developed and hardened muscles; because
every move we make is contested by gravity.

My antagonist was so terribly cock-sure of himself, when facing such a
seemingly puny creature as I, that he left himself wide open, as he
charged down upon me like a wild bull.

I saw by the way he held his sword that he intended to strike me on the
head with the flat of it, rendering me unconscious, so that he could
more easily capture me; but when the sword fell I was not there; I had
stepped to the right out of his way, and simultaneously I thrust for
his heart. I would have punctured it, too, had not one of his four arms
happened to swing against the point of my blade before it reached his
body. As it was, I gave him a severe wound; and, roaring with rage, he
turned and came at me again.

This time he was more careful; but it made no difference; he was
doomed, for he was testing his skill against the best swordsman of two
worlds.

The other six warriors were almost upon me now. This was no time for
the sport of fencing. I feinted once, and ran him through the heart.
Then, seeing that Llana was safe, I turned and ran along the edge of
the rift; and the six green warriors did just what I had expected them
to do. They had probably detached themselves from the rear guard for
the sport of catching a red man for torture or for their savage games.
Bunched close together they came after me, the nailless, padded feet of
their ponderous mounts making no sound upon the ocher, moss-like
vegetation of the dead sea bottom. Their spears couched, they came for
me, each trying to make the kill or the capture. I felt much as a fox
must feel at a fox hunt.

Suddenly I stopped, turned, and ran toward them. They must have thought
that I had gone mad with fear, for they certainly couldn't have known
what I had in mind and that I had run from them merely to lure them
away from the head of the trail leading down into the valley. They were
almost upon me when I leaped high into the air and completely over
them. My great strength and agility and the lesser gravity of Mars had
once again come to my aid in an emergency.

When I alighted, I dashed for the head of the trail. And when the
warriors could stop their mounts they turned and raced after me, but
they were too late. I can out-run any thoat that was ever foaled. The
only trouble with me is that I am too proud to run; but, like the
fellow that was too proud to fight, I sometimes have to, as in this
case where the safety of others was at stake.

I reached the head of the trail in plenty of time and hurried down
after Llana and Pan Dan Chee, whom I found waiting for me when I caught
up with them.

As we descended, I looked up and saw the green warriors at the edge of
the rift looking at us; and, guessing what would happen, I dragged
Llana into the shelter of an overhanging ledge. Pan Dan Chee followed
just as radium bullets commenced to explode close to us.

The rifles with which the green men of Mars are armed are of a white
metal, stocked with wood; a very light and intensely hard growth much
prized on Mars and entirely unknown to us denizens of Earth. The metal
of the barrel is an alloy composed principally of aluminum and steel,
which they have learned to temper to a hardness far exceeding that of
the steel with which we are familiar.

The weight of these rifles is comparatively little; and with the small
caliber, explosive radium projectiles which they use and the great
length of the barrel, they are deadly in the extreme and at ranges
which would be unthinkable on Earth.

The projectiles which they use explode when they strike an object, for
they have an opaque outer coating which is broken by the impact,
exposing a glass cylinder, almost solid, in the forward end of which is
a minute particle of radium powder.

(Editor's Note) I have used the word radium in describing this powder
because in the light of recent discoveries on earth I believe it to be
a mixture of which radium is the base. In Captain Carter's manuscripts
it is mentioned always by the name used in the written language of
Helium and is spelled in hieroglyphics which it would be difficult and
useless to reproduce.

The moment the sunlight, even though diffused, strikes this powder it
explodes with a violence which nothing can withstand. In night battles
one notices the absence of these explosions, while the following
morning will be filled at sunrise with the sharp detonations of
exploding missiles fired the preceding night. As a rule, however,
non-exploding projectiles are used after dark.

I felt it safer to remain where we were rather than to expose ourselves
by attempting to descend, as I doubted very much that the huge green
warriors would follow us down that steep declivity on foot, for the
trail was too narrow for their great bodies and they hate going
anywhere on foot.

After a few minutes I investigated and found that they apparently had
departed.

Then we started on down into the valley, not wishing to risk another
encounter with that great horde of cruel and ruthless creatures.




Chapter 3



The trail was steep and oftentimes dangerous for it zig-zagged down the
face of an almost perpendicular cliff. Occasionally on a ledge we would
have to step over the skeleton of a man, and we passed three newly dead
bodies in various stages of decomposition.

"What do you make of these skeletons and bodies?" asked Pan Dan Chee.

"I am puzzled," I replied; "there must be a great many more who died on
the trail than those whose remains we have seen here. You will note
that these all lie on ledges where the bodies could have lodged when
they fell. Many more must have pitched to the foot of the cliff."

"But how do you suppose they met their death?" asked Llana.

"There might have been an epidemic of disease in the valley," suggested
Pan Dan Chee, "and these poor devils died while trying to escape."

"I am sure I haven't the slightest idea of what the explanation can
be," I replied. "You see the remains of harness on most of them, but no
weapons. I am inclined to think that Pan Dan Chee is rig