 CHAPTERS 1 AND 2 of A PRINCESS OF MARS by Edgar Rice Burroughs, read by Mark Nelson. Who the raider of this work? In submitting Captain Carter's strange manuscript to you in book form, I believe that a few words relative to this remarkable personality will be of interest. My first recollection of Captain Carter is of the few months he spent at my father's home in Virginia, just prior to the opening of the Civil War. I was then a child of but five years, yet I well remember the tall, dark, smooth-faced athletic man whom I called Uncle Jack. He seemed always to be laughing, and he entered into the sports of children with the same hearty good fellowship he displayed toward those pastimes in which the men and women of his own age indulged. Or he would sit for an hour at a time, entertaining my old grandmother with stories of his strange, wild life in all parts of the world. We all loved him, and our slaves fairly worshiped the ground he trod. He was a splendid specimen of manhood, standing a good two inches over six feet, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, and with the carriage of the trained fighting man. His features were regular and clear cut, his hair black and closely cropped, while his eyes were of a steel gray, reflecting a strong and loyal character, filled with fire and initiative. His manners were perfect, and his courtliness was that of a typical southern gentleman of the highest type. His horsemanship, especially after hounds, was a marvel and delight, even in that country of magnificent horsemen. I have often heard my father caution him against his wild recklessness, but he would only laugh, and say that the tumble that killed him would be from the back of a horse yet unfold. When the war broke out he left us, nor did I see him again for some fifteen or sixteen years. When he returned it was without warning, and I was much surprised to note that he had not aged, apparently, a moment. Or had he changed in any other outward way? He was, when others were with him, the same genial, happy fellow we had known of old. But when he thought himself alone I have seen him sit for hours gazing off into space, his face set in a look of wistful longing and hopeless misery, and at night he would sit thus, looking up into the heavens, at what I did not know, until I read this manuscript years afterward. He told us that he had been prospecting and mining in Arizona part of the time since the war, and that he had been very successful was evidenced by the unlimited amount of money with which he was supplied. As to the details of his life during those years he was very reticent. In fact he would not talk of them at all. He remained with us for about a year, and then went to New York, where he purchased a little place on the Hudson where I visited him once a year on the occasions of my trips to the New York market, my father and I owning and operating a string of general stores throughout Virginia at that time. Captain Carter had a small but beautiful cottage, situated on a bluff overlooking the river, and during one of my last visits in the winter of 1885 I observed he was much occupied in writing, I presume now, upon this manuscript. He told me at this time that if anything should happen to him he wished me to take charge of his estate, and gave me a key to a compartment in the safe which stood in his study, telling me I would find his will there and some personal instructions which he had me pledge myself to carry out with absolute fidelity. After I had retired for the night I have seen him from my window, standing in the moonlight on the brink of the bluff overlooking the Hudson, with his arms stretched out to the heavens as though in appeal. I thought at the time that he was praying, although I never understood that he was in the strict sense of the term a religious man. Several months after I returned home from my last visit, the first of March, 1886 I think, I received a telegram from him asking me to come to him at once. I had always been his favorite among the younger generation of Carter's and so I hastened to comply with his demand. I arrived at the little station about a mile from his grounds on the morning of March 4th, 1886, and when I asked the liveryman to drive me out to Captain Carter's, he replied that if I was a friend of the Captain's he had some very bad news for me. The Captain had been found dead shortly after daylight that very morning by the Watchman attached to an adjoining property. For some reason this news did not surprise me, but I hurried out to his place as quickly as possible so that I could take charge of the body and of his affairs. I found the Watchman who had discovered him together with the local police chief and several townspeople assembled in his little study. The Watchman related the few details connected with the finding of the body, which he said had been still warm when he came upon it. It lay, he said, stretched full length in the snow with the arms outstretched above the head toward the edge of the bluff, and when he showed me the spot it flashed upon me that it was the identical one where I had seen him on those other nights, with his arms raised in supplication to the skies. There were no marks of violence on the body, and with the aid of a local physician the coroner's jury quickly reached a decision of death from heart failure. Left alone in the study I opened the safe and withdrew the contents of the drawer in which he had told me I would find my instructions. They were in part peculiar indeed, but I have followed them to each last detail as faithfully as I was able. He directed that I remove his body to Virginia without embalming, and that he be laid in an open coffin within a tomb which he previously had had constructed, and which, as I later learned, was well ventilated. The instructions impressed upon me that I must personally see that this was carried out just as he directed, even in secrecy if necessary. His property was left in such a way that I was to receive the entire income for twenty-five years when the principal was to become mine. His further instructions related to this manuscript which I was to retain, sealed, and unread just as I found it for eleven years, nor was I to divulge its contents until twenty-one years after his death. A strange feature about the tomb where his body still lies is that the massive door is equipped with a single huge gold-plated spring-lock which can be opened only from the inside. Yours very sincerely, Edgar Rice Burroughs. CHAPTER I. ON THE ARIZONA HILLS. I am a very old man. How old? I do not know. Already I am a hundred, possibly more, but I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I have always been a man, a man of about thirty. I appear today as I did forty years and more ago, and yet I feel that I cannot go on living forever, that some day I shall die the real death from which there is no resurrection. I do not know why I should fear death, I who have died twice and am still alive, but yet I have the same horror of it as you who have never died, and it is because of this terror of death I believe that I am so convinced of my mortality. And because of this conviction I have determined to write down the story of the interesting periods of my life and of my death. I cannot explain the phenomena. I can only set down here in the words of an ordinary soldier of fortune, a chronicle of the strange events that befell me during the ten years that my dead body lay undiscovered in an Arizona cave. I have never told this story, nor shall mortal man see this manuscript until after I have passed over for eternity. I know that the average human mind will not believe what it cannot grasp. And so I do not purpose to be pilloried by the public, the pulpit and the press, and held up as a colossal liar when I am but telling the simple truths which some day science will substantiate. Possibly the suggestions which I gained upon Mars and the knowledge which I can set down in this chronicle will aid in an earlier understanding of the mysteries of our sister planet, mysteries to you, but no longer mysteries to me. My name is John Carter. I am better known as Captain Jack Carter of Virginia. At the close of the Civil War I found myself possessed of several hundred thousand dollars, Confederate, and a captain's commission in the cavalry arm of an army which no longer existed, the servant of a state which had vanished with the hopes of the South. Masterless, penniless, and with my only means of livelihood, fighting, gone, I determined to work my way to the Southwest and attempt to retrieve my fallen fortunes in a search for gold. I spent nearly a year prospecting in company with another Confederate officer, Captain James K. Powell of Richmond. We were extremely fortunate, for late in the winter of 1865, after many hardships and privations, we located the most remarkable gold-bearing quartz vein that our wildest dreams had ever pictured. Powell, who was a mining engineer by education, stated that we had uncovered over a million dollars' worth of ore in a trifle over three months. As our equipment was crude in the extreme, we decided that one of us must return to civilization, purchase the necessary machinery, and return with a sufficient force of men properly to work the mine. As Powell was familiar with the country, as well as with the mechanical requirements of mining, we determined that it would be best for him to make the trip. It was agreed that I was to hold down our claim against the remote possibility of its being jumped by some wandering prospector. On March 3, 1866, Powell and I packed his provisions on two of our burrows, and bidding me good-bye, he mounted his horse and started down the mountainside toward the valley, across which led the first stage of his journey. The morning of Powell's departure was, like nearly all Arizona mornings, clear and beautiful. I could see him and his little pack animals picking their way down the mountainside toward the valley. While during the morning I would catch occasional glimpses of them as they topped a hogback or came out upon a level plateau. My last sight of Powell was about three in the afternoon as he entered the shadows of the range on the opposite side of the valley. Some half hour later I happened to glance casually across the valley and was much surprised to note three little dots in about the same place I had last seen my friend and his two pack animals. I am not given to needless worrying, but the more I tried to convince myself that all was well with Powell and that the dots I had seen on his trail were antelope or wild horses, the less I was able to assure myself. Since we had entered the territory we had not seen a hostile Indian, and we had, therefore, become careless in the extreme and were want to ridicule the stories we had heard of the great numbers of these vicious marauders that were supposed to haunt the trails, taking their toll in lives and torture of every white party which fell into their merciless clutches. Powell I knew was well armed and further an experienced Indian fighter. But I, too, had lived and fought for years among the Sioux in the north, and I knew that his chances were small against a party of cunning trailing apaches. Finally I could endure the suspense no longer, and arming myself with my two colt revolvers and a carbine I strapped two belts of cartridges about me and catching my saddle horse started down the trail taken by Powell in the morning. As soon as I reached comparatively level ground I urged my mount into a canter and continued this, where the going permitted until close upon dusk. I discovered the point where the other tracks joined those of Powell. They were the tracks of unshod ponies, three of them, and the ponies had been galloping. I followed rapidly until darkness shutting down I was forced to await the rising of the moon, and given an opportunity to speculate on the question of the wisdom of my chase. Finally I had conjured up impossible dangers, like some nervous old housewife, and when I should catch up with Powell would get a good laugh for my pains. However, I am not prone to sensitiveness, and the following of a sense of duty, wherever it may lead, has always been a kind of fetish with me throughout my life, which may account for the honors bestowed upon me by three republics and the decorations and friendships of an old and powerful emperor and several lesser kings, in whose service my sword has been read many a time. About nine o'clock the moon was sufficiently bright for me to proceed on my way, and I had no difficulty in following the trail at a fast walk and in some places at a brisk trot, until about midnight I reached the water-hole where Powell had expected to camp. I came upon the spot unexpectedly, finding it entirely deserted, with no signs of having been recently occupied as a camp. I was interested to note that the tracks of the pursuing horsemen, for such I was now convinced they must be, continued after Powell with only a brief stop at the hole for water, and always at the same rate of speed as his. I was positive now that the trailers were apaches and that they wished to capture Powell alive for the fiendish pleasure of the torture, so I urged my horse onward at a most dangerous pace, hoping against hope that I would catch up with the red rascals before they attacked him. Further speculation was suddenly cut short by the faint report of two shots far ahead of me. I knew that Powell would need me now if ever, and I instantly urged my horse to his topmost speed up the narrow and difficult mountain trail. I had forged ahead for perhaps a mile or more without hearing further sounds, when the trail suddenly debouched into a small, open plateau near the summit of the pass. I had passed through a narrow, overhanging gorge just before entering suddenly upon this table-land, and the sight which met my eyes filled me with consternation and dismay. The little stretch of level land was white with Indian tepees, and there was probably half a thousand red warriors clustered around some object near the center of the camp. Their attention was so wholly riveted to this point of interest that they did not notice me and I easily could have turned back into the dark recesses of the gorge and made my escape with perfect safety. The fact, however, that this thought did not occur to me until the following day removes any possible right to a claim of heroism to which the narration of this episode might possibly otherwise entitle me. I do not believe that I am made of the stuff which constitutes heroes, because in all of the hundreds of instances that my voluntary acts have placed me face to face with death, I cannot recall a single one where any alternative step to that I took occurred to me until many hours later. My mind is evidently so constituted that I am subconsciously forced into the path of duty without recourse to tiresome mental processes. However that may be, I have never regretted that cowardice is not optional with me. In this instance I was, of course, positive that Powell was the center of attraction, but whether I thought or acted first I do not know. But within an instant from the moment the scene broke upon my view I had whipped out my revolvers and was charging down the entire army of warriors, shooting rapidly and whooping at the top of my lungs. Single-handed I could not have pursued better tactics, for the red men, convinced by sudden surprise that not less than a regimen of regulars was upon them, turned and fled in every direction for their bows, arrows, and rifles. The view which their hurried routing disclosed filled me with apprehension and with rage. Under the clear rays of the Arizona moon lay Powell, his body fairly bristling with the hostile arrows of the braves. That he was already dead I could not but be convinced, and yet I would have saved his body from mutilation at the hands of the Apaches as quickly as I would have saved the man himself from death. Riding close to him I reached down from the saddle and grasping his cartridge belt drew him up across the withers of my mount. A backward glance convinced me that to return by the way I had come would be more hazardous than to continue across the plateau. So putting my spurs to my poor beast I made a dash for the opening to the pass which I could distinguish on the far side of the table-land. The Indians had by this time discovered that I was alone, and I was pursued with imprecations, arrows, and rifle-balls. The fact that it is difficult to aim anything but imprecations accurately by moonlight, that they were upset by the sudden and unexpected manner of my advent, and that I was a rather rapidly moving target saved me from various deadly projections of the enemy and permitted me to reach the shadows of the surrounding peaks before an orderly pursuit could be organized. My horse was travelling practically unguided, as I knew that I had probably less knowledge of the exact location of the trail to the pass than he, and thus it happened that he entered a defile which led to the summit of the range and not to the pass which I had hoped would carry me to the valley and to safety. It is probable, however, that to this fact I owe my life, and the remarkable experiences and adventures which befell me during the following ten years. My first knowledge that I was on the wrong trail came when I heard the yells of the pursuing savages suddenly grow fainter and fainter far off to my left. I knew then that they had passed to the left of the jagged rock formation at the edge of the plateau, to the right of which my horse had borne me and the body of Powell. I drew rain on a little level promontory overlooking the trail below, and to my left I saw the party of pursuing savages disappearing around the point of a neighbouring peak. I knew the Indians would soon discover that they were on the wrong trail and that the search for me would be renewed in the right direction as soon as they had located my tracks. I had gone but a short distance further when what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad, and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine. I had followed this trail for perhaps a hundred yards when a sharp turn to the right brought me to the mouth of a large cave. The opening was about four feet in height and three to four feet wide, and at this opening the trail ended. It was now morning, and with the customary lack of dawn, which is a startling characteristic of Arizona, it had become daylight almost without warning. Dismounting I laid Powell upon the ground, but the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest spark of life. I forced water from my canteen between his dead lips, bathed his face and rubbed his hands, working over him continuously for the better part of an hour in the face of the fact that I knew him to be dead. I was very fond of Powell. He was thoroughly a man in every respect, a polished southern gentleman, a staunch and true friend, and it was with a feeling of the deepest grief that I finally gave up my crude endeavors at resuscitation. Leaving Powell's body where it lay on the ledge, I crept into the cave to reconnoitre. I found a large chamber, possibly a hundred feet in diameter and thirty or forty feet in height, a smooth and well-worn floor, and many other evidences that the cave had, at some remote period, been inhabited. The back of the cave was so lost in dense shadow that I could not distinguish whether there were openings into other apartments or not. As I was continuing my examination, I commenced to feel a pleasant drowsiness creeping over me, which I attributed to the fatigue of my long and strenuous ride and the reaction from the excitement of the fight and the pursuit. I felt comparatively safe in my present location as I knew that one man could defend the trail to the cave against an army. I soon became so drowsy that I could scarcely resist the strong desire to throw myself on the floor of the cave for a few moments rest. But I knew that this would never do, as it would mean certain death at the hands of my red friends who might be upon me at any moment. With an effort I started toward the opening of the cave only to reel drunkenly against a side wall and from there slip prone upon the floor. Chapter 2 The Escape of the Dead A sense of delicious dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed, and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring to my feet, but was horrified to discover that my muscles refused to respond to my will. I was now thoroughly awake, but was unable to move a muscle as though turned to stone. It was then for the first time that I noticed a slight vapor filling the cave. It was extremely tenuous and only noticeable against the opening which led to daylight. There also came to my nostrils a faintly pungent odor, and I could only assume that I had been overcome by some poisonous gas. But why should I retain my mental faculties and yet be unable to move I could not fathom. I lay facing the opening of the cave and where I could see the short stretch of trail which lay between the cave and the turn of the cliff around which the trail led. The noise of the approaching horses ceased, and I judged the Indians were creeping stealthily upon me along the little ledge which led to my living tomb. I remember that I hoped they would make short work of me, as I did not particularly relish the thought of the innumerable things they might do to me if the spirit prompted them. I had not long to wait before a stealthy sound apprised me of their nearness, and then a war-bonneted, paint-streaked face was thrust cautiously around the shoulder of the cliff and savage eyes looked into mine. That he could see me in the dim light of the cave I was sure, for the early morning sun was falling full upon me through the opening. The fellow, instead of approaching, merely stood and stared, his eyes bulging and his jaw dropped. And then another savage face appeared, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, craning their necks over the shoulders of their fellows whom they could not pass upon the narrow ledge. Each face was the picture of awe and fear, but for what reason I did not know, nor did I learn, until ten years later, that there were still other braves behind those who regarded me was apparent from the fact that the leaders passed back whispered word to those behind them. Suddenly a low but distinct moaning sound issued from the recesses of the cave behind me, and as it reached the ears of the Indians they turned and fled in terror, panic-stricken. So frantic were their efforts to escape from the unseen thing behind me that one of the braves was hurled headlong from the cliff to the rocks below. Their wild cries echoed in the canyon for a short time, and then all was still once more. The sound which had frightened them was not repeated, but it had been sufficient as it was to start me speculating on the possible horror which lurked in the shadows at my back. Fear is a relative term, and so I can only measure my feelings at that time by what I had experienced in previous positions of danger, and by those that I have passed through since. But I can say without shame that if the sensations I endured during the next few minutes were fear then may God help the coward, for cowardice is of assurity its own punishment. To be held paralyzed, with once back toward some horrible and unknown danger, from the very sound of which the ferocious Apache warriors turn in wild stampede as a flock of sheep would madly flee from a pack of wolves seemed to me the last word in fearsome predicaments for a man who had ever been used to fighting for his life with all the energy of a powerful physique. Several times I thought I heard faint sounds behind me as of somebody moving cautiously, but eventually even these ceased, and I was left to contemplate of my position without interruption. I could but vaguely conjecture the cause of my paralysis, and my only hope lay in that it might pass off as suddenly as it had fallen upon me. Late in the afternoon my horse, which had been standing with dragging rain before the cave, started slowly down the trail, evidently in search of food and water, and I was left alone with my mysterious unknown companion and the dead body of my friend, which lay just within my range of vision upon the ledge where I had placed it in the early morning. From then, until possibly midnight, all was silence, the silence of the dead. Then suddenly the awful moan of the morning broke upon my startled ears and there came again from the black shadows the sound of a moving thing and a faint rustling as of dead leaves. The shock to my already over-strained nervous system was terrible in the extreme, and with a superhuman effort I strove to break my awful bonds. It was an effort of the mind, of the will, of the nerves. Not muscular, for I could not move even so much as my little finger, but nonetheless mighty for all that. And then something gave. There was a momentary feeling of nausea, a sharp click as of the snapping of a steel wire, and I stood with my back against the wall of the cave facing my unknown foe. And then the moonlight flooded the cave, and there before me lay my own body as it had been lying all these hours, with the eyes staring toward the open ledge and the hands resting limply upon the ground. I looked first at my lifeless clay there upon the floor of the cave and then down at myself in utter bewilderment. For there I lay clothed, and yet here I stood but naked as at the minute of my birth. The transition had been so sudden and so unexpected that it left me for a moment forgetful of odd else than my strange metamorphosis. My first thought was, is this then death? Have I indeed passed over forever into that other life? But I could not well believe this, as I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs from the exertion of my efforts to release myself from the anesthesis which had held me. My breath was coming in quick short gasps, cold sweat stood out from every pore of my body, and the ancient experiment of pinching revealed the fact that I was anything other than a wraith. Again I was suddenly recalled to my immediate surroundings by a repetition of the weird moan from the depths of the cave. Naked and unarmed as I was, I had no desire to face the unseen thing which menaced me. My revolvers were strapped to my lifeless body, which for some unfathomable reason I could not bring myself to touch. My carbine was in its boot, strapped to my saddle, and as my horse had wandered off I was left without means of defense. My only alternative seemed to lie in flight, and my decision was crystallized by a recurrence of the rustling sound from the thing which now seemed in the darkness of the cave and to my distorted imagination to be creeping stealthily upon me. No longer to resist the temptation to escape this horrible place, I leaped quickly through the opening into the starlight of a clear Arizona night. The crisp fresh mountain air outside the cave acted as an immediate tonic, and I felt new life and new courage coursing through me. Pausing upon the brink of the ledge, I abraded myself for what now seemed to me wholly unwarranted apprehension. I reasoned with myself that I had lain helpless for many hours within the cave, yet nothing had molested me, and my better judgment, when permitted the direction of clear and logical reasoning, convinced me that the noises I had heard must have resulted from purely natural and harmless causes. Probably the conformation of the cave was such that a slight breeze had caused the sounds I heard. I decided to investigate, but first I lifted my head to fill my lungs with the pure, invigorating night air of the mountains. As I did so I saw stretching far below me the beautiful vista of rocky gorge, the level cacti-studded flat wrought by the moonlight into a miracle of soft splendor and wondrous enchantment. Few western wonders are more inspiring than the beauties of an Arizona moonlit landscape, the silvered mountains in the distance, the strange lights and shadows upon hogback and arroyo, and the grotesque details of the stiff yet beautiful cacti form a picture at once enchanting and inspiring, as though one were catching for the first time a glimpse of some dead and forgotten world, so different is it from the aspect of any other spot upon our earth. As I stood thus meditating I turned my gaze from the landscape to the heavens, where the myriad stars formed a gorgeous and fitting canopy for the wonders of the earthly scene. My attention was quickly riveted by a large red star close to the distant horizon. As I gazed upon it I felt a spell of overpowering fascination. It was Mars, the God of War, and for me, the fighting man, it had always held the power of irresistible enchantment. As I gazed at it on that far-gone night, it seemed to call across the unthinkable void, to lure me to it, to draw me as the lodestone attracts a particle of iron. My longing was beyond the power of opposition. I closed my eyes, stretched out my arms toward the God of my vocation, and felt myself drawn with the suddenness of thought through the trackless immensity of space. There was an instant of extreme cold and utter darkness. CHAPTER III. MY ADVENT ON MARS. I opened my eyes upon a strange and weird landscape. I knew that I was on Mars, not once did I question either my sanity or my wakefulness. I was not asleep, no need for pinching here. My inner consciousness told me, as plainly that I was upon Mars, as your conscious mind tells you, that you were upon Earth. You do not question the fact, neither did I. I found myself lying prone upon a bed of yellowish, moss-like vegetation which stretched around me in all directions for interminable miles. I seemed to be lying in a deep circuit or basin, along the outer verge of which I could distinguish the irregularities of low hills. It was midday, the sun was shining full upon me, and the heat of it was rather intense upon my naked body, yet no greater than would have been true under similar conditions on an Arizona desert. Here and there were slight outcroppings of quartz-bearing rock which glistened in the sunlight, and a little to my left, perhaps a hundred yards, appeared a low, walled enclosure about four feet in height. No water and no other vegetation than the moss was in evidence. And as I was somewhat thirsty, I determined to do a little exploring. Springing to my feet I received my first Martian surprise. For the effort which on Earth would have brought me standing upright, carried me into the Martian air to the height of about three yards. I lighted softly upon the ground, however, without appreciable shock or jar. Now commenced a series of evolutions which even then seemed ludicrous in the extreme. I found that I must learn to walk all over again, as the muscular exertion which carried me easily and safely upon Earth played strange antics with me on Mars. Instead of progressing in a sane and dignified manner, my attempts to walk resulted in a variety of hops which took me clear of the ground a couple of feet at each step, and landed me sprawling upon my face or back at the end of each second or third hop. My muscles, perfectly attuned and accustomed to the force of gravity on Earth, played the mischief with me in attempting for the first time to cope with the lesser gravitation and lower air pressure on Mars. I was determined, however, to explore the low structure which was the only evidence of habitation in sight, and so I hid upon the unique plan of reverting to the first principles in locomotion, creeping. I did fairly well at this, and in a few moments had reached the low encircling wall of the enclosure. There appeared to be no doors or windows upon the side nearest me, but as the wall was but about four feet high I cautiously gained my feet and peered over the top upon the strangest sight it had ever been given me to see. The roof of the enclosure was of solid glass, about four or five inches in thickness, and beneath this were several hundred large eggs, perfectly round and snowy white. The eggs were nearly uniform in size, being about two and one half feet in diameter. Four or five had already hatched, and the grotesque caricatures which sat blinking in the sunlight were enough to cause me to doubt my sanity. They seemed mostly head, with little scrawny bodies, long necks, and six legs. Or as I afterward learned, two legs and two arms, with an intermediary pair of limbs, which could be used at will either as arms or legs. Their eyes were set at the extreme sides of their heads, a trifle above the center, and protruded in such a manner that they could be directed either forward or back, and also independently of each other, thus permitting this queer animal to look in any direction, or in two directions at once, without the necessity of turning the head. The ears, which were slightly above the eyes and closer together, were small, cup-shaped antennae protruding not more than an inch on these young specimens. Their noses were but longitudinal slits in the center of their faces, midway between their mouths and ears. There was no hair on their bodies, which were of a very light yellowish-green color. In the adults, as I was to learn quite soon, this color deepens to an olive green, and is darker in the male than in the female. Further, the heads of the adults are not so out of proportion to their bodies, as in the case of the young. The iris of the eyes is blood-red, as in albinos, while the pupil is dark. The eyeball itself is very white, as are the teeth. These latter add a most ferocious appearance to an otherwise fearsome and terrible countenance, as the lower tusks curve upward to sharp points, which end about where the eyes of earthly human beings are located. The whiteness of the teeth is not that of ivory, but of the snowiest and most gleaming of China. Against the dark background of their olive skins, their tusks stand out in a most striking manner, making these weapons present a singularly formidable appearance. Most of these details I noted later, for I was given but little time to speculate on the wonders of my new discovery. I had seen that the eggs were in the process of hatching, and as I stood watching the hideous little monsters break from their shells I failed to notice the approach of a score of full-grown Martians from behind me. Coming as they did over the soft and soundless moss which covers practically the entire surface of Mars, with the exception of the frozen areas at the poles and the scattered cultivated districts, they might have captured me easily, but their intentions were far more sinister. It was the rattling of the accoutrements of the foremost warrior which warned me. On such a little thing my life hung that I often marvel that I escaped so easily. Had not the rifle of the leader of the party swung from its fastenings beside his saddle in such a way as to strike against the butt of his great metal-shod spear I should have snuffed out without ever knowing that death was near me. But that little sound caused me to turn, and there upon me, not ten feet from my breast, was the point of that huge spear, a spear forty feet long, tipped with gleaming metal, and held low at the side of a mounted replica of the little devils I had been watching. But how puny and harmless they now looked beside this huge and terrific incarnation of hate, of vengeance, and of death. The man himself, for such I may call him, was fully fifteen feet in height, and on earth would have weighed some four hundred pounds. He sat his mount as we sit a horse, grasping the animal's barrel with his lower limbs, while the hands of his two right arms held his immense spear low at the side of his mount. His two left arms were outstretched laterally to help preserve his balance, the thing he wrote having neither bridle or reins of any description for guidance. And his mount. How can earthly words describe it? It towered ten feet at the shoulder, had four legs on either side, a broad flat tail larger at the tip than at the root, and which it held straight out behind while running, a gaping mouth which split its head from its snout to its long, massive neck. Like its master it was entirely devoid of hair, but was of a dark slate color and exceedingly smooth and glossy. Its belly was white, and its legs shaded from the slate of its shoulders and hips to a vivid yellow at the feet. The feet themselves were heavily padded and nailless, which fact had also contributed to the noiselessness of their approach, and in common with a multiplicity of legs is a characteristic feature of the fauna of Mars. The highest type of man, and one other animal, the only mammal existing on Mars, alone have well-formed nails, and there are absolutely no hoofed animals in existence there. Behind this first charging demon trailed nineteen others, similar in all respects, but as I learned later, bearing individual characteristics peculiar to themselves, precisely as no two of us are identical, although we are all cast in a similar mold. This picture, or rather materialized nightmare which I have described at length, made but one terrible and swift impression on me as I turned to meet it. Unarmed and naked as I was, the first law of nature manifested itself in the only possible solution of my immediate problem, and that was to get out of the vicinity of the point of the charging spear. Consequently I gave a very earthly and at the same time superhuman leap to reach the top of the Martian incubator, for such I had determined it must be. My effort was crowned with a success which appalled me no less than it seemed to surprise the Martian warriors, for it carried me fully thirty feet into the air and landed me a hundred feet from my pursuers and on the opposite side of the enclosure. I lighted upon the soft moss easily and without mishap, and turning saw my enemies lined up along the further wall. Some were surveying me with expressions which I afterward discovered marked extreme astonishment, and the others were evidently satisfying themselves that I had not molested their young. They were conversing together in low tones and gesticulating and pointing toward me. Their discovery that I had not harmed their little Martians and that I was unarmed must have caused them to look upon me with less ferocity. But, as I was to learn later, the thing which weighed most in my favor was my exhibition of hurtling. While the Martians are immense their bones are very large, and they are muscled only in proportion to the gravitation which they must overcome. The result is that they are infinitely less agile and less powerful in proportion to their weight than an earthman, and I doubt that were one of them suddenly to be transported to earth he could lift his own weight from the ground. In fact, I am convinced that he could not do so. My feat, then, was as marvelous upon Mars as it would have been upon earth, and from desiring to annihilate me they suddenly looked upon me as a wonderful discovery to be captured and exhibited among their fellows. The respite my unexpected agility had given me permitted me to formulate plans for the immediate future, and to note more closely the appearance of the warriors, or I could not dissociate these people in my mind from those other warriors who only the day before had been pursuing me. I noted that each was armed with several other weapons in addition to the huge spear which I have described. The weapon which caused me to decide against an attempt of escape by flight was, what was evidently, a rifle of some description, and which I felt, for some reason, they were peculiarly efficient in handling. These rifles were of a white metal stocked with wood, which I learned later was a very light and intensely hard growth much prized upon 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 theoretical effective radius of this rifle is three hundred miles, but the best they can do in actual service, when equipped with their wireless finders and ciders, is but a trifle over two hundred miles. This is quite far enough to imbue me with great respect for the Martian firearm, and some telepathic force must have warned me against an attempt to escape in broad daylight from under the muzzles of twenty of these death-dealing machines. The Martians, after conversing for a short time, turned and rode away in the direction from which they had come, leaving one of their number alone by the enclosure. When they had covered perhaps two hundred yards they halted, and turning their mounts toward us sat watching the warrior by the enclosure. He was the one whose spear had so nearly transfixed me, and was evidently the leader of the band, as I had noted that they seemed to have moved to their present position at his direction. When his force had come to a halt he dismounted, threw down his spear and small arms, and came around the end of the incubator toward me, entirely unarmed and as naked as I, except for the ornaments strapped upon his head, limbs, and breast. When he was within about fifty feet of me he unclasped an enormous metal armlet, and, holding it toward me in the open palm of his hand, addressed me in a clear, resonant voice, but in a language it is needless to say I could not understand. He then stopped, as though waiting for my reply, pricking up his antennae-like ears and cocking his strange-looking eyes still further toward me. As the silence became painful I concluded to hazard a little conversation on my own part, as I had guessed that he was making overtures of peace. The throwing down of his weapons and the withdrawing of his troop before his advance toward me would have signified a peaceful mission anywhere on earth. So why not then, on Mars? Placing my hand over my heart I bowed low to the Martian and explained to him that while I did not understand his language his actions spoke for the peace and friendship that at the present moment were most dear to my heart. Of course I might have been a babbling brook for all the intelligence my speech carried to him, but he understood the action with which I immediately followed my words. Stretching my hand toward him I advanced and took the armlet from his open palm, clasping it about my arm above the elbow, smiled at him, and stood waiting. His wide mouth spread into an answering smile, and locking one of his intermediary arms in mine we turned and walked back toward his mount. At the same time he motioned his followers to advance. They started toward us on a wild run, but were checked by a signal from him. Evidently he feared that were I to be really frightened again I might jump entirely out of the landscape. He exchanged a few words with his men, motioned to me that I would ride behind one of them and then mounted his own animal. The fellow designated reached down two or three hands and lifted me up behind him on the glossy back of his mount, where I hung on as best I could by the belts and straps which held the Martians' weapons and ornaments. The entire cavalcade then turned and galloped away toward the range of hills in the distance. CHAPTER IV A PRISONER We had gone perhaps ten miles when the ground began to rise very rapidly. We were, as I was later to learn, nearing the edge of one of Mars' long dead seas, in the bottom of which my encounter with the Martians had taken place. In a short time we gained the foot of the mountains, and after traversing a narrow gorge came to an open valley at the far extremity of which was a low table-land upon which I beheld an enormous city. Toward this we galloped, entering it by what appeared to be a ruined roadway leading out from the city, but only to the edge of the table-land where it ended abruptly in a flight of broad steps. Upon closer observation I saw as we passed them that the buildings were deserted and while not greatly decayed had the appearance of not having been teneted for years, possibly for ages. Toward the center of the city was a large plaza, and upon this and in the buildings immediately surrounding it were camped some nine or ten hundred creatures of the same breed as my captors, for such I now considered them despite the suave manner in which I had been trapped. With the exception of their ornaments all were naked. The women varied in appearance but little from the men, except that their tusks were much larger in proportion to their height, in some instances curving nearly to their high-set ears. Their bodies were smaller and lighter in color, and their fingers and toes bore the rudiments of nails which were entirely lacking among the males. The adult females ranged in height from ten to twelve feet. The children were light in color, even lighter than the women, and all looked precisely alike to me, except that some were taller than others, older I presumed. I saw no signs of extreme age among them, nor is there any appreciable difference in their appearance from the age of maturity about forty, until, at about the age of one thousand years, they go voluntarily upon their last strange pilgrimage down the river Is, which leads no living Martian knows wither, and from whose bosom no Martian has ever returned, or would be allowed to live did he return after once embarking upon its cold, dark waters. Only about one Martian in a thousand dies of sickness or disease, and possibly about twenty take the voluntary pilgrimage. The other nine hundred and seventy-nine die violent deaths, in duels, in hunting, in aviation, and in war. But perhaps by far the greatest death loss comes during the age of childhood, when the vast numbers of little Martians fall victims to the great white apes of Mars. The average life expectancy of a Martian, after the age of maturity, is about three hundred years, but would be near the one thousand mark, were it not for the various means leading to violent death. Owing to the waning resources of the planet, it evidently became necessary to counteract the increasing longevity which their remarkable skill in therapeutics and surgery produced, and so human life has come to be considered but lightly on Mars, as is evidenced by their dangerous sports and the almost continual warfare between the various communities. There are other and natural causes tending toward a diminution of population, but nothing contributes so greatly to this end as the fact that no male or female Martian is ever voluntarily without a weapon of destruction. As we neared the plaza and my presence was discovered, we were immediately surrounded by hundreds of the creatures, who seemed anxious to pluck me from my seat behind my guard. A word from the leader of the party stilled their clamor, and we proceeded at a trot across the plaza to the entrance of as magnificent an edifice as mortal eye has rested upon. The building was low but covered an enormous area. It was constructed of gleaming white marble inlaid with gold and brilliant stones, which sparkled and scintillated in the sunlight. The main entrance was some hundred feet in width, and projected from the building proper to form a huge canopy above the entrance hall. There was no stairway, but a gentle incline to the first floor of the building opened into an enormous chamber circled by galleries. On the floor of this chamber, which was dotted with highly carved wooden desks and chairs, were assembled about forty or fifty male Martians around the steps of a rostrum. On the platform proper squatted an enormous warrior, heavily loaded with metal ornaments, gay colored feathers, and beautifully wrought leather trappings ingeniously set with precious stones. From his shoulders depended a short cape of white fur lined with brilliant scarlet silk. What struck me as most remarkable about this assemblage and the hall in which they were congregated was the fact that the creatures were entirely out of proportion to the desks, chairs, and other furnishings. These being of a size adapted to human beings such as I, whereas the great bulks of the Martians could scarcely have squeezed into the chairs, nor was there room beneath the desks for their long legs. Evidently, then, there were other denizens on Mars than the wild and grotesque creatures into whose hands I had fallen. But the evidences of extreme antiquity which showed all around me indicated that these buildings might have belonged to some long extinct and forgotten race in the dim antiquity of Mars. Our party had halted at the entrance to the building, and at a sign from the leader I had been lowered to the ground. Again, locking his arm in mine, we had proceeded into the audience chamber. There were few formalities observed in approaching the Martian chieftain. My captor merely strode up to the rostrum, the others making way for him as he advanced. The chieftain rose to his feet and uttered the name of my escort, who in turn halted and repeated the name of the ruler followed by his title. At the time this ceremony and the words they uttered meant nothing to me. But later I came to know that this was the customary greeting between green Martians, had the men been strangers, and therefore unable to exchange names they would have silently exchanged ornaments, had their missions been peaceful. Otherwise they would have exchanged shots, or have fought out their introduction with some other of their various weapons. My captor, whose name was Tars Tarkas, was virtually the vice chieftain of the community and a man of great ability as a statesman and warrior. He evidently explained briefly the incidents connected with his expedition, including my captor, and when he had concluded the chieftain addressed me at some length. I replied in our good old English tongue merely to convince him that neither of us could understand the other. But I noticed that when I smiled slightly on concluding he did likewise. This fact and the similar occurrence during my first talk with Tars Tarkas convinced me that we had at least something in common. The ability to smile, therefore to laugh, denoting a sense of humor. But I was to learn that the Martian smile is merely perfunctory, and that the Martian laugh is a thing to cause strong men to blanch in horror. The ideas of humor among the green men of Mars are widely at variance with our conception of incidents to merriment. The death agonies of a fellow being are to these strange creatures provocative of the wildest hilarity, while their chief form of commonest amusement is to inflict death on their prisoners of war in various ingenious and horrible ways. The assembled warriors and chieftains examined me closely, feeling my muscles and the texture of my skin. The principal chieftain then evidently signified a desire to see me perform, and motioning me to follow he started with Tars Tarkas for the open plaza. Now I had made no attempt to walk, since my first signal failure, except while tightly grasping Tars Tarkas' arm, and so now I went skipping and flitting about among the desks and chairs like some monstrous grasshopper. After bruising myself severely, much to the amusement of the Martians, I again had recourse to creeping, but this did not suit them, and I was roughly jerked to my feet by a towering fellow who had laughed most heartily at my misfortunes. As he banged me down upon my feet his face was bent close to mine, and I did the only thing a gentleman might do under the circumstances of brutality, boorishness, and lack of consideration for a stranger's rights. I swung my fist squarely to his jaw, and he went down like a felled ox. As he sunk to the floor I wheeled around with my back toward the nearest desk, expecting to be overwhelmed by the vengeance of his fellows, but determined to give them as good a battle as the unequal odds would permit before I gave up my life. My fears were groundless, however, as the other Martians, at first struck dumb with wonderment, finally broke into wild peals of laughter and applause. I did not recognize the applause as such, but later, when I had become acquainted with their customs, I had learned that I had won what they seldom accord, a manifestation of approbation. The fellow whom I had struck lay where he had fallen, nor did any of his mates approach him. Tars Tarkas advanced toward me, holding out one of his arms, and we thus proceeded to the plaza without further mishap. I did not, of course, know the reason for which we had come to the open, but I was not long in being enlightened. They first repeated the word SAK a number of times, and then Tars Tarkas made several jumps, repeating the same word before each leap, then turning to me he said SAK. I saw what they were after, and gathering myself together, I SAK'd with such marvellous success that I cleared a good hundred and fifty feet, nor did I this time lose my equilibrium, but landed squarely upon my feet without falling. I then returned by easy jumps of twenty-five or thirty feet to the little group of warriors. My exhibition had been witnessed by several hundred lesser Martians, and they immediately broke into demands for a repetition, which the chieftain then ordered me to make. But I was both hungry and thirsty, and determined on the spot that my only method of salvation was to demand the consideration from these creatures which they evidently would not voluntarily accord. I therefore ignored the repeated commands to SAK, and each time they were made I motioned to my mouth and rubbed my stomach. Tars Tarkas and the chief exchanged a few words, and then the former, calling to a young female among the throng, gave her some instructions and motioned me to accompany her. I grasped her proffered arm, and together we crossed the plaza toward a large building on the far side. My fair companion was about eight feet tall, having just arrived at maturity, but not yet to her full height. She was of a light, olive-green color, with a smooth, glossy hide. Her name, as I afterward learned, was Sola, and she belonged to the retinue of Tars Tarkas. She conducted me to a spacious chamber in one of the buildings fronting on the plaza, and which, from the litter of silks and furs upon the floor, I took to be the sleeping quarters of several of the natives. The room was well lighted by a number of large windows, and was beautifully decorated with mural paintings and mosaics. But upon all there seemed to rest that indefinable touch of the finger of antiquity, which convinced me that the architects and builders of these wondrous creations had nothing in common with the crude, half brutes which now occupied them. Sola motioned me to be seated upon a pile of silks near the center of the room, and turning made a peculiar hissing sound, as though signaling to someone in an adjoining room. In response to her call, I obtained my first sight of a new Martian wonder. It waddled in on its ten short legs, and squatted down before the girl like an obedient puppy. The thing was about the size of a Shetland pony, but its head bore a slight resemblance to that of a frog, except that the jaws were equipped with three rows of long, sharp tusks. A Princess of Mars. Chapter 5 I Allude My Watchdog. Sola stared into the brute's wicked-looking eyes, muttered a word or two of command, pointed to me, and left the chamber. I could not but wonder what this ferocious-looking monstrosity might do when left alone in such close proximity to such a relatively tender morsel of meat. But my fears were groundless, as the beast, after surveying me intently for a moment, crossed the room to the only exit which led to the street, and lay down full length across the threshold. This was my first experience with a Martian watchdog, but it was destined not to be my last. For this fellow guarded me carefully during the time I remained a captive among these green men, twice saving my life, and never voluntarily being away from me a moment. While Sola was away, I took occasion to examine more minutely the room in which I found myself captive. The mural painting depicted scenes of rare and wonderful beauty. Mountains, rivers, lake, ocean, meadow, trees and flowers, winding roadways, sun-kissed gardens, scenes which might have portrayed earthly views, but for the different colorings of the vegetation. The work had evidently been wrought by a master hand, so subtle the atmosphere, so perfect the technique. Yet nowhere was there a representation of a living animal, either human or brute, by which I could guess at the likeness of these other, and perhaps extinct, denizens of Mars. While I was allowing my fancy to run riot in wild conjecture, on the possible explanation of the strange anomalies which I had so far met with on Mars, Sola returned bearing both food and drink. These she placed on the floor beside me, and seating herself a short ways off regarded me intently. The food consisted of about a pound of some solid substance, the consistency of cheese, and almost tasteless. While the liquid was apparently milk from some animal. It was not unpleasant to the taste, though slightly acid, and I learned in a short time to prize it very highly. It came, as I later discovered, not from an animal, as there is only one mammal on Mars, and that one very rare indeed. But from a large plant which grows practically without water, but seems to distill its plentiful supply of milk from the products of the soil, the moisture of the air, and the rays of the sun. A single plant of this species will give eight or ten quarts of milk per day. After I had eaten I was greatly invigorated, but feeling the need of rest I stretched out upon the silks and was soon asleep. I must have slept several hours, as it was dark when I awoke and I was very cold. I noticed that someone had thrown a fur over me, but it had become partially dislodged and in the darkness I could not see to replace it. Suddenly a hand reached out and pulled the fur over me, shortly afterwards adding another to my covering. I presumed that my watchful guardian was Sola, nor was I wrong. This girl alone, among all the green Martians with whom I came in contact, disclosed characteristics of sympathy, kindness, and affection. Her ministrations to my bodily wants were unfailing, and her solicitous care saved me from much suffering and many hardships. As I was to learn the Martian nights are extremely cold, and as there is practically no twilight or dawn the changes in temperature are sudden and most uncomfortable, as are the transitions from brilliant daylight to darkness. The nights are either brilliantly illumined or very dark, or if neither of the two moons of Mars happen to be in the sky, almost total darkness results, since the lack of atmosphere, or rather the very thin atmosphere, fails to diffuse the starlight to any great extent. On the other hand, if both of the moons are in the heavens at night, the surface of the ground is brightly illuminated. Both of Mars' moons are vastly nearer her than is our moon to Earth, the nearer moon being but about 5,000 miles distant, while the further is but little more than 14,000 miles away, against the nearly one-quarter million miles which separates us from our moon. The nearer moon of Mars makes a complete revolution around the planet in a little over seven and one-half hours, so that she may be seen hurtling through the sky like some huge meteor two or three times each night, revealing all her phases during each transit of the heavens. The further moon revolves about Mars in something over thirty and one-quarter hours, and with her sister satellite makes a nocturnal Martian scene one of splendid and weird grandeur. And it is well that nature has so graciously and abundantly lighted the Martian night, for the green men of Mars, being a nomadic race without high intellectual development, have but crude means for artificial lighting, depending principally upon torches, a kind of candle, and a peculiar oil lamp which generates a gas and burns without a wick. This last device produces an intensely brilliant, far-reaching white light, but as the natural oil which it requires can only be obtained by mining in one of several widely separated and remote localities, it is seldom used by these creatures whose only thought is for today, and whose hatred for manual labor has kept them in a semi-barbaric state for countless ages. After Sola had replenished my coverings I again slept, nor did I awaken until daylight. The other occupants of the room, five in number, were all females, and they were still sleeping, piled high with a motley array of silks and furs. Across the threshold lay stretched the sleeping guardian brute, just as I had last seen him on the preceding day. Apparently he had not moved a muscle. His eyes were fairly glued upon me, and I fell to wondering just what might befall me should I endeavour it to escape. I have ever been prone to seek adventure and to investigate and experiment where wiser men would have left well enough alone. It therefore now occurred to me that the surest way of learning the exact attitude of this beast toward me would be to attempt to leave the room. I felt fairly secure in my belief that I could escape him should he pursue me once I was outside the building, for I had begun to take great pride in my ability as a jumper. Furthermore I could see from the shortness of his legs that the brute himself was no jumper and probably no runner. Slowly and carefully, therefore, I gained my feet, only to see my watcher did the same. Cautiously I advanced toward him, finding that by moving with a shuffling gait I could retain my balance as well as make reasonably rapid progress. As I neared the brute he backed cautiously away from me, and when I had reached the open he moved to one side to let me pass. He then fell in behind me and followed about ten paces in my rear as I made my way along the deserted street. Evidently his mission was to protect me only, I thought, but when we reached the edge of the city he suddenly sprang before me, uttering strange sounds and baring his ugly and ferocious tusks. Thinking to have some amusement at his expense I rushed toward him and when almost upon him sprang into the air, alighting far beyond him and away from the city. He wheeled instantly and charged me with the most appalling speed I had ever beheld. I had thought his short legs a bar to swiftness, but had he been coursing with greyhounds the latter would have appeared as though asleep on a doormat. As I was to learn this was the fleetest animal on Mars, and owing to its intelligence, loyalty, and ferocity is used in hunting, in war, and as the protector of the Martian man. I quickly saw that I would have difficulty in escaping the fangs of the beast on a straightaway course, and so I met his charge by doubling in my tracks and leaping over him as he was almost upon me. This maneuver gave me a considerable advantage, and I was able to reach the city quite a bit ahead of him, and as he came tearing after me I jumped for a window about thirty feet from the ground in the face of one of the buildings overlooking the valley. Grasping the sill I pulled myself up to a sitting posture without looking into the building and gazed down at the baffled animal beneath me. My exultation was short-lived, however, for scarcely had I gained a secure seat upon the sill, then a huge hand grasped me by the neck from behind and dragged me violently into the room. Here I was thrown upon my back and beheld, standing over me, a colossal, ape-like creature, white and hairless except for an enormous shock of bristly hair upon its head. CHAPTER VI A FIGHT THAT WAN FRIENDS The thing which more nearly resembled our earthly men than it did the Martians I had seen held me pinion to the ground with one huge foot, while it jabbered and gesticulated at some answering creature behind me. This other, which was evidently its mate, soon came toward us, bearing a mighty stone cudgel with which it evidently intended to brain me. The creatures were about ten or fifteen feet tall, standing erect and had, like the Green Martians, an intermediary set of arms or legs midway between their upper and lower limbs. Their eyes were close together and non-portruding. Their ears were high set, but more laterally located than those of the Martians, while their snouts and teeth were strikingly like those of our African guerrilla. Altogether they were not unlovely when viewed in comparison with the Green Martians. The cudgel was swinging in the arc which ended upon my upturned face, when a bolt of myriad-legged horror hurled itself through the doorway, full upon the breast of my executioner. With a shriek of fear the ape which held me leaped through the open window. But its mate closed in a terrific death-struggle with my preserver, which was nothing less than my faithful watch-thing. I cannot bring myself to call so hideous a creature a dog. As quickly as possible I gained my feet, and backing against the wall I witnessed such a battle as it has vouchsafed few beings to see. The strength, agility, and blind ferocity of these two creatures is approached by nothing known to earthly man. My beast had an advantage in his first hold, having sunk his mighty fangs far into the breast of his adversary. But the great arms and paws of the ape, backed by muscles far transcending those of the Martian men I had seen, had locked the throat of my guardian, and slowly were choking out his life and bending back his head and neck upon his body, where I momentarily expected the former to fall limp at the end of a broken neck. In accomplishing this the ape was tearing away the entire front of its breast, which was held in the vice-like grip of the powerful jaws. Back and forth upon the floor they rolled, neither one emitting a sound of fear or pain. Presently I saw the great eyes of my beast bulging completely from their sockets, and blood flowing from its nostrils. That he was weakening perceptibly was evident, but so also was the ape, whose struggles were growing momentarily less. Suddenly I came to myself, and with that strange instinct which seems ever to prompt me to my duty I seized the cudgel, which had fallen to the floor at the commencement of the battle, and swinging it with all the power of my earthly arms I crashed it full upon the head of the ape, crushing his skull as though it had been an eggshell. Scarcely had the blow descended when I was confronted with a new danger. The ape's mate, recovered from its first shock of terror, had returned to the scene of the encounter by way of the interior of the building. I glimpsed him just before he reached the doorway, and the sight of him, now roaring as he perceived his lifeless fellow stretched upon the floor, and frothing at the mouth, in the extremity of his rage, filled me, I must confess, with dire forebodings. I am ever willing to stand and fight when the odds are not too overwhelmingly against me, but in this instance I perceive neither glory nor profit in pitting my relatively puny strength against the iron muscles and brutal ferocity of this enraged denizen of an unknown world. In fact the only outcome of such an encounter, so far as I might be concerned, seemed sudden death. I was standing near the window, and I knew that once in the street I might gain the plaza and safety before the creature could overtake me. At least there was a chance for safety in flight against the almost certain death should I remain and fight, however desperately. It is true I held the cudgel, but what could I do with it against his four great arms? Even should I break one of them with my first blow, for I figured that he would attempt to ward off the cudgel, he would reach out and annihilate me with the others before I could recover for a second attack. In the instant that these thoughts passed through my mind I had turned to make for the window, but my eyes alighting on the form of my erstwhile guardian threw all thoughts of flight to the floor winds. He lay gasping upon the floor of the chamber, his great eyes fastened upon me in what seemed a pitiful appeal for protection. I could not withstand that look, nor could I, on second thought, have deserted my rescuer without giving as good an account of myself in his behalf as he had in mine. Without more ado, therefore, I turned to meet the charge of the infuriated bull-ape. He was now too close upon me for the cudgel to prove of any effective assistance, so I merely threw it as heavily as I could at his advancing bulk. It struck him just below the knees, eliciting a howl of pain and rage, and so throwing him off his balance that he lunged full upon me with arms wide stretched to ease his fall. Again, as on the preceding day, I had recourse to earthly tactics, and swinging my right fist full upon the point of his chin I followed it with a smashing left to the pit of his stomach. The effect was marvellous, for as I lightly sight-stepped after delivering the second blow, he reeled and fell upon the floor, doubled up with pain and gasping for wind. Leaping over his prostrate body, I seized the cudgel and finished the monster before he could regain his feet. As I delivered the blow, a low laugh rang out behind me, and, turning, I beheld Taurus Tarkas, Sola, and three or four warriors standing in the doorway of the chamber. As my eyes met theirs, I was, for the second time, the recipient of their zealously guarded applause. My absence had been noted by Sola on her awakening, and she had quickly informed Taurus Tarkas, who had set out immediately with a handful of warriors to search for me. As they had approached the limits of the city, they had witnessed the actions of the bull-ape as he bolted into the building, frothing with rage. They had followed immediately behind him, thinking it barely possible that his actions might prove a clue to my whereabouts, and had witnessed my short but decisive battle with him. This encounter, together with my set to with the Martian warrior on the previous day, and my feats of jumping, placed me upon a high pinnacle in their regard. Evidently, devoid of all the finer sentiments of friendship, love, or affection, these people fairly worship physical prowess and bravery, and nothing is too good for the object of their adoration as long as he maintains his position by repeated examples of his skill, strength, and courage. Sola, who had accompanied the searching party of her own volition, was the only one of the Martians whose face had not been twisted in laughter as I battled for my life. She, on the contrary, was sober with apparent solicitude, and as soon as I had finished the monster, rushed to me and carefully examined my body for possible wounds or injuries. Satisfying herself that I had come off unscathed, she smiled quietly and taking my hand started toward the door of the chamber. Tars Tarkas and the other warriors had entered and were standing over the now rapidly reviving brute which had saved my life, and whose life I in turn had rescued. They seemed to be deep in argument, and finally one of them addressed me, but remembering my ignorance of his language turned back to Tars Tarkas, who, with a word and gesture, gave some command to the fellow and turned to follow us from the room. There seemed something menacing in their attitude toward my beast, and I hesitated to leave until I had learned the outcome. It was well I did so, for the warrior drew an evil-looking pistol from its holster and was on the point of putting an end to the creature when I sprang forward and struck up his arm. The bullet striking the wooden casing of the window exploded, blowing a hole completely through the wood and masonry. I then knelt down beside the fearsome-looking thing and raising it to its feet motioned for it to follow me. The looks of surprise which my actions elicited from the Martians were ludicrous. They could not understand, except in a feeble and childish way such attributes as gratitude and compassion. The warrior, whose gun I had struck up, looked inquiringly at Tars Tarkas, but the latter signed that I be left to my own devices, and so we returned to the plaza with my great beast following close at heel, and Sola grasping me tightly by the arm. I had at least two friends on Mars, a young woman who watched over me with motherly solicitude, and a dumb brute which as I later came to know held in its poor ugly Tarkas more love, more loyalty, more gratitude than could have been found in the entire five million green Martians who rove the deserted cities and dead sea-bottoms of Mars. CHAPTER VII. CHILD RAISING ON MARS After breakfast, which was an exact replica of the meal of the preceding day, and an index of practically every meal which followed while I was with the green men of Mars, Sola escorted me to the plaza, where I found the entire community engaged in watching or helping at the harnessing of huge mastodonian animals to great three-wheeled chariots. There were about two hundred and fifty of these vehicles, each drawn by a single animal, any one of which, from their appearance, might easily have drawn the entire wagon 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 beasts which drew the chariots was perched a young Martian driver. Like the animals upon which the warriors were mounted, the heavier draft animals wore neither bit nor bridle, but were guided entirely by telepathic means. This power is wonderfully developed in all Martians, and accounts largely for the simplicity of their language and the relatively few spoken words exchanged even in long conversations. It is the universal language of Mars, through the medium of which the higher and lower animals of this world of paradoxes are able to communicate to a greater or less extent, depending on the intellectual sphere of the species and the development of the individual. As the cavalcade took up the line of March in single file, Sola dragged me into an empty chariot and we proceeded with the procession toward the point by which I had entered the city the day before. At the head of the caravan rode some two hundred warriors, five abreast, and a like number brought up the rear, while twenty-five or thirty outriders flanked us on either side. Everyone but myself, men, women, and children, were heavily armed, and at the tail of each chariot trotted a Martian hound, my own beast following closely behind ours. In fact, the faithful creature never left me voluntarily during the entire ten years I spent on Mars. Our way led out across the little valley before the city, through the hills and down into the Dead Sea Bottom, which I had traversed on my journey from the incubator to the plaza. The incubator, as it proved, was the terminal point of our journey this day, and as the entire cavalcade broke into a mad gallop as soon as we reached the level expanse of Sea Bottom, we were soon within sight of our goal. On reaching it the chariots were parked with military precision on the four sides of the enclosure, and a half a score of warriors, headed by the enormous chieftain and including Tars Tarkas and several other lesser chiefs, dismounted and advanced toward it. I could see Tars Tarkas explaining something to the principal chieftain, whose name, by the way, was, as nearly as I can translate it into English, Lorquas Tommel Jed, Jed being his title. I was soon appraised of the subject of their conversation, as calling to Sola, Tars Tarkas signed for her to send me to him. I had by this time mastered the intricacies of walking under Martian conditions, and quickly responding to his command I advanced to the side of the incubator where the warrior stood. As I reached their side a glance showed me that all but a very few eggs had hatched, the incubator being fairly alive with the hideous little devils. They ranged in height from three to four feet, and were moving restlessly about the enclosure as though searching for food. As I came to a halt before him, Tars Tarkas pointed over the incubator and said, Sack. I saw that he wanted me to repeat my performance of yesterday for the edification of Lorquas Tommel. And, as I must confess that my prowess gave me no little satisfaction, I responded quickly, leaping entirely over the park chariots on the far side of the incubator. As I returned, Lorquas Tommel grunted something at me, and turning to his warriors gave a few words of command relative to the incubator. They paid no further attention to me, and I was thus permitted to remain close and watch their operations, which consisted in breaking an opening in the wall of the incubator large enough to permit of the exit of the young Martians. On either side of this opening the women and the younger Martians, both male and female, formed two solid walls leading out through the chariots and quite away into the plain beyond. Between these walls the little Martians scampered, wild as deer, being permitted to run the full length of the aisle, where they were captured one at a time by the women and older children. The last in the line capturing the first little one to reach the end of the gauntlet, her opposite in the line capturing the second, and so on until all the little fellows had left the enclosure and been appropriated by some youth or female. I saw that the ceremony, if it could be dignified by such a name, was over, and seeking out Sola I found her in our chariot with a hideous little creature held tightly in her arms. The work of rearing young green Martians consists solely in teaching them to talk and to use the weapons of warfare with which they are loaded down from the very first year of their lives. Coming from eggs in which they have lain for five years, the period of incubation, they step forth into the world perfectly developed except in size. Entirely unknown to their mothers, who in turn would have difficulty in pointing out the fathers with any degree of accuracy, they are the common children of the community, and their education devolves upon the females who chance to capture them as they leave the incubator. Their foster mothers may not even have had an egg in the incubator, as was the case with Sola, who had not commenced to lay until less than a year before she became the mother of another woman's offspring. But this counts for little among the green Martians as parental and filial love is as unknown to them as it is common among us. I believe this horrible system which has been carried on for ages is the direct cause of the loss of all the finer feelings and higher humanitarian instincts among these poor creatures. From birth they know no father or mother-love, they know not the meaning of the word home, they are taught that they are only suffered to live until they can demonstrate by their physique and ferocity that they are fit to live. Should they prove deformed or defective in any way they are promptly shot, nor do they see a tear shed for a single one of the many cruel hardships they pass through from earliest infancy. I do not mean that the adult Martians are unnecessarily or intentionally cruel to the young, but theirs is a hard and pitiless struggle for existence upon a dying planet, the natural resources of which have dwindled to a point where the support of each additional life means an added tax upon the community into which it is thrown. By careful selection they rear only the hardiest specimens of each species, and with almost supernatural foresight they regulate the birth rate to merely offset the loss by death. Each adult Martian female brings forth about thirteen eggs each year, and those which meet the size, weight, and specific gravity tests 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 council 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 airtight incubators to be hatched by the sun's rays, after a period of another five years. The hatching which we had witnessed today was a fairly representative event of its kind, all but about one percent of the eggs hatching in two days. If the remaining eggs ever hatched we knew nothing of the fate of the little Martians. They were not wanted, as their offspring might inherit and transmit the tendency to prolonged incubation, and thus upset the system which has maintained for ages and which permits the adult Martians to figure the proper time for return to the incubators 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. I was later to witness the results of the discovery of an alien incubator. The community of which the green Martians with whom my lot was cast, formed apart, was composed of some thirty thousand souls. They roamed an enormous tract of arid and semi-arid land between forty and eighty degrees south latitude, and bounded on the east and west by two large fertile tracks. Their headquarters lay in the southwest corner of this district, near the crossing of two of the so called Martian canals. As the incubator had been placed far north of their own territory in a supposedly uninhabited and non-frequented area, we had before us a tremendous journey concerning which I, of course, knew nothing. After our return to the dead city I passed several days in comparative idleness. On the day following our return all the warriors had ridden forth early in the morning and had not returned until just before darkness fell. As I later learned they had been to the subterranean vaults in which the eggs were kept and had transported them to the incubator, which they had then walled up for another five years, and which, in all probability, would not be visited again during that period. The vaults which hid the eggs until they were ready for the incubator were located many miles south of the incubator and would be visited yearly by the council of twenty chieftains. Why they did not arrange to build their vaults and incubators nearer home has always been a mystery to me, and like many of the other Martian mysteries unsolved and unsolvable by earthly reasoning and customs. Sola's duties were now doubled, as she was compelled to care for the young Martian as well as for me, but neither one of us required much attention and as we were both about equally advanced in Martian education Sola took it upon herself to train us together. Her prize consisted in a mail about four feet tall, very strong and physically perfect. Also he learned quickly, and we had considerable amusement, at least I did, over the keen rivalry we displayed. The Martian language, as I have said, is extremely simple, and in a week I could make all my once known and understand nearly everything that was said to me. Likewise under Sola's tutelage I developed my telepathic powers so that I shortly could sense practically everything that went on around me. What surprised Sola most in me was that while I could catch telepathic messages easily from others, and often when they were not intended for me, no one could read a jot from my mind under any circumstances. At first this vexed me, but later I was very glad of it, as it gave me an undoubted advantage over the Martians. Chapter 8. A Fair Captive From the Sky The third day after the incubator ceremony we set forth toward home, but scarcely had the head of the procession debouched into the open ground before the city, then orders were given for an immediate and hasty return. As though trained for years in this particular evolution, the green Martians melted like mist into the spacious doorways of the nearby buildings, until, in less than three minutes, the entire cavalcade of chariots, mastodons, and mounted warriors was nowhere to be seen. Sola and I entered a building upon the front of the city, in fact the same one in which I had had my encounter with the apes, and wishing to see what had caused the sudden retreat, I mounted to an upper floor and peered from the window out over the valley and the hills beyond. And there I saw the cause of their sudden scurrying to cover. A huge craft, long, low, and gray painted, swung slowly over the crest of the nearest hill. Following it came another, and another, and another, until twenty of them, swinging low above the ground, sailed slowly and majestically toward us. Each carried a strange banner swung from stem to stern above the upper works, and upon the prow of each was painted some odd device that gleamed in the sunlight, and showed plainly, even at the distance at which we were from the vessels. I could see figures crowding the forward decks and upper works of the aircraft. Whether they had discovered us or simply were looking at the deserted city, I could not say. But in any event they received a rude reception. For suddenly, and without warning, the green Martian warriors fired a terrific volley from the windows of the buildings facing the little valley across which the great ships were so peacefully advancing. Instantly the scene changed as by magic. The foremost vessel swung broadside toward us, and bringing her guns into play returned our fire, at the same time moving parallel to our front for a short distance and then turning back with the evident intention of completing a great circle which would bring her up to position once more opposite our firing line. The other vessels followed in her wake, each one opening upon us as she swung into position. Our own fire never diminished, and I doubt if twenty-five percent of our shots went wild. It had never been given to me to see such deadly accuracy of aim, and it seemed as though a little figure on one of the craft dropped at the explosion of each bullet, while the banners and upper works dissolved in spurts of flame as the irresistible projectiles of our warriors mowed through them. The fire from the vessels was most ineffectual, owing, as I afterward learned, to the unexpected suddenness of the first volley which caught the ship's crews entirely unprepared, and the sighting apparatus of the guns unprotected from the deadly aim of our warriors. It seems that each green warrior has certain objective points for his fire under relatively identical circumstances of war. For example, a proportion of them, always the best marksmen, direct their fire entirely upon the wireless finding and sighting apparatus of the big guns of an attacking naval force. Another detail attends to the smaller guns in the same way. Others pick off the gunners, still others the officers, while certain other quotas concentrate their attention upon the other members of the crew, upon the upper works, and upon the steering gear and propellers. Twenty minutes after the first volley the great fleet swung trailing off in the direction from which it had first appeared. Several of the craft were limping perceptibly, and seemed but barely under the control of their depleted crews. Their fire had ceased entirely, and all their energies seemed focused upon escape. Our warriors then rushed up to the roofs of the buildings which we occupied and followed the retreating armada with a continuous fuselage of deadly fire. One by one, however, the ships managed to dip below the crests of the outlying hills until only one barely moving craft was in sight. This had received the brunt of our fire and seemed to be entirely unmanned, as not a moving figure was visible upon her decks. Slowly she swung from her course, circling back toward us in an erratic and pitiful manner. Instantly the warriors ceased firing, for it was quite apparent that the vessel was entirely helpless, and far from being in a position to inflict harm upon us she could not even control herself sufficiently to escape. As she neared the city the warriors rushed out upon the plane to meet her, but it was evident that she was still too high for them to hope to reach her decks. From my vantage point in the window I could see the bodies of her crew strewn about, although I could not make out what manner of creatures they might be. Not a sign of life was manifest upon her as she drifted slowly with the light breeze in a south-easterly direction. She was drifting some fifty feet above the ground, followed by all but some hundred of the warriors, who had been ordered back to the roofs to cover the possibility of a return of the fleet or of reinforcements. It soon became evident that she would strike the face of the buildings about a mile south of our position, and as I watched the progress of the chase I saw a number of warriors gallop ahead, dismount and enter the building she seemed destined to touch. As the craft neared the building and just before she struck the Martian warriors swarmed upon her from the windows and with their great spears eased the shock of the collision, and in a few moments they had thrown out grappling hooks and the big boat was being hauled to ground by their fellows below. After making her fast they swarmed the sides and searched the vessel from stem to stern. I could see them examining the dead sailors, evidently for signs of life, and presently a party of them appeared from below dragging a little figure among them. The creature was considerably less than half as tall as the green Martian warriors, and from my balcony I could see that it walked erect upon two legs, and surmised that it was some new and strange Martian monstrosity with which I had not as yet become acquainted. They removed their prisoner to the ground and then commenced a systematic rifling of the vessel. This operation required several hours, during which time a number of the chariots were requisitioned to transport the loot, which consisted in arms, ammunition, silks, furs, jewels, strangely carved stone vessels, and a quantity of solid foods and liquids, including many casks of water, the first I had seen since my advent upon Mars. After the last load had been removed the warriors made lines fast to the craft and towed her far out into the valley in a southwesterly direction. A few of them then boarded her and were busily engaged in what appeared, from my distant position, as the emptying of the contents of various carboys upon the dead bodies of the sailors and over the decks and works of the vessel. This operation concluded they hastily clambered over her sides, sliding down the guy ropes to the ground. The last warrior to leave the deck turned and threw something back upon the vessel, waiting an instant to note the outcome of his act. As a faint spur of flame rose from the point where the missile struck, he swung over the side and was quickly upon the ground. Scarcely had he alighted, then the guy ropes were simultaneously released, and the great warship, lightened by the removal of the loot, soared majestically into the air, her decks and upper works a mass of roaring flames. Slowly she drifted to the southeast, rising higher and higher as the flames ate away her wooden parts and diminished the weight upon her. Ascending to the roof of the building I watched her for hours, until finally she was lost in the dim vistas of the distance. The sight was awe-inspiring in the extreme as one contemplated this mighty floating funeral pyre, drifting, unguided and unmanned, through the lonely wastes of the Martian heavens. A derelict of death and destruction, typifying the life story of these strange and ferocious creatures into whose unfriendly hands fate had carried it. Much depressed, and to me unaccountably so, I slowly descended to the street. The scene I had witnessed seemed to mark the defeat and annihilation of the forces of a kindred people, rather than the routing by our green warriors of a horde of similar, though unfriendly creatures. I could not fathom the seeming hallucination, nor could I free myself from it, but somewhere in the innermost recesses of my soul I felt a strange yearning toward these unknown foemen, and a mighty hope surged through me that the fleet would return and demand a reckoning from the green warriors who had so ruthlessly and wantonly attacked it. Close at my heel, in his now accustomed place, followed Wula the hound, and as I emerged upon the street, Sola rushed up to me as though I had been the object of some search on her part. The cavalcade was returning to the plaza, the homeward march having been given up for that day, nor, in fact, was it recommenced for more than a week, owing to the fear of a return attack by the aircraft. Loquas Tommel was too astute an old warrior to be caught upon the open plains with a caravan of chariots and children, and so we remained at the deserted city until the danger seemed past. As Sola and I entered the plaza a sight met my eyes which filled my whole being with a great surge of mingled hope, fear, exultation, and depression, and yet most dominant was a subtle sense of relief and happiness. For just as we neared the throng of Martians I caught a glimpse of the prisoner from the battle-craft who was being roughly dragged into a nearby building by a couple of green Martian females, and the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past life. She did not see me at first, but just as she was disappearing through the portal of the building which was to be her prison she turned, and her eyes met mine. Her face was oval and beautiful in the extreme. Her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite. Her eyes large and lustrous, and her head surmounted by a mass of coal-black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange, yet becoming coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect. She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who accompanied her. Indeed, say for her highly wrought ornaments she was entirely naked, nor could any apparel have enhanced the beauty of her perfect and symmetrical figure. As her gaze rested on me her eyes open wide in astonishment, and she made a little sign with her free hand, a sign which I did not of course understand. Just a moment we gazed upon each other, and then the look of hope and renewed courage which had glorified her face as she discovered me, faded into one of utter dejection, mingled with loathing and contempt. I realized I had not answered her signal, and ignorant as I was of Martian customs I intuitively felt that she had made an appeal for succor and protection, which my unfortunate ignorance had prevented me from answering. And then she was dragged out of my sight into the depths of the deserted edifice.