A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS

                            EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

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                                  Contents

FOREWORD

  1. SANOMA TORA
  2. BROUGHT DOWN
  3. CORNERED
  4. TAVIA
  5. TO THE PITS
  6. SENTENCED TO DIE
  7. THE DEATH
  8. THE SPIDER OF GHASTA
  9. PHOR TAK OF JHAMA
 10. THE FLYING DEATH
 11. "LET THE FIRE BE HOT!"
 12. THE CLOAK OF INVISIBILITY
 13. TUL AXTAR'S WOMEN
 14. THE CANNIBALS OF U-GOR
 15. THE BATTLE OF JAHAR
 16. DESPAIR
 17. I FIND A PRINCESS

[About this etext]
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FOREWORD

TO JASON  GRIDLEY OF TARZANA, discoverer of  the Gridley Wave, belonged the
credit of establishing radio communication between Pellucidar and the outer
world.

It was  my good fortune to be much in his  laboratory while he was carrying
on his  experiments and to be,  also, the recipient of  his confidences, so
that I was fully  aware that while he hoped to establish communication with
Pellucidar  he  was  also  reaching  out  toward an  even  more  stupendous
accomplishment  – he  was groping  through space  for contact  with another
planet; nor  did he attempt to  deny that the present  goal of his ambition
was radio communication with Mars.

Gridley had constructed a simple, automatic device for broadcasting signals
intermittently  and for  recording  whatever might  be received  during his
absence.

For a period of  five minutes the Gridley Wave carried a simple code signal
consisting  of two  letters, "J.G.,"  out into  the ether,  following which
there  was a pause  of ten minutes.  Hour after  hour, day after  day, week
after week,  these silent,  invisible messengers sped out  to the uttermost
reaches of  infinite space, and after Jason  Gridley left Tarzana to embark
upon his  expedition to Pellucidar, I found  myself drawn to his laboratory
by the  lure of the tantalizing  possibilities of his dream,  as well as by
the promise  I had made him  that I would look  in occasionally to see that
the  device   was  functioning  properly  and   to  examine  the  recording
instruments  for any  indication  that the  signals had  been  received and
answered.

My  considerable  association with  Gridley  had  given me  a fair  working
knowledge  of his  devices and  sufficient knowledge  of the Morse  Code to
enable me to receive with moderate accuracy and speed.

Months passed; dust accumulated  thickly upon everything except the working
parts of Gridley's device,  and the white ribbon of ticker tape that was to
receive an  answering signal retained  its virgin purity; then  I went away
for a short trip into Arizona.

I was absent for  about ten days and upon my return one of the first things
with which I concerned myself was an inspection of Gridley's laboratory and
the instruments he had  left in my care. As I entered the familiar room and
switched on the lights it was with the expectation of meeting with the same
blank   unresponsiveness  to   which  I   was  by  now   quite  accustomed.

As  a  matter  of fact,  hope  of  success had  never  been  raised to  any
considerable degree in my  breast, nor had Gridley been over sanguine – his
was merely an experiment. He considered it well worth while to make it, and
I considered  it equally  worth while to  lend him what  small assistance I
might.

It was, therefore, with feelings of astonishment that assumed the magnitude
of a  distinct shock that I saw upon the  ticker tape the familiar tracings
which stand for the dots and dashes of code.

Of  course I  realized  that some  other researcher  might  have duplicated
Jason's  discovery of  the  Gridley Wave  and that  the message  might have
originated upon earth, or,  again, it might be a message from Jason himself
in Pellucidar, but when I had deciphered it, all doubts were quickly put to
rest. It  was from Ulysses Paxton,  one time captain, –  the U.S. Infantry,
who, miraculously transported from  a battlefield in France to the bosom of
the  great Red Planet,  had become the  right hand  man of Ras  Thavas, the
mastermind of  Mars, and  later the husband  of Valla Dia,  daughter of Kor
San, Jeddak of Duhor.

In brief, the message explained that for months mysterious signals had been
received at Helium, and while they were unable to interpret them, they felt
that they  came from  Jasoom, the name  by which the planet  Earth is known
upon Mars.

John Carter  being absent from Helium, a fast  flier had been dispatched to
Duhor  bearing an  urgent request  to Paxton  to come  at once to  the twin
cities  and  endeavor  to  determine if  in  truth  the  signals they  were
receiving   actually   originated   upon   the   planet   of   his   birth.

Upon his  arrival at  Helium, Paxton immediately recognized  the Morse Code
signals and  no doubt was left in the minds  of the Martian scientists that
at  last something tangible  had been  accomplished toward the  solution of
inter-communication between Jasoom and Barsoom.

Repeated attempts  to transmit answering signals  to Earth proved fruitless
and then the best minds of Helium settled down to the task of analyzing and
reproducing the Gridley Wave.

They felt that at  last they had succeeded. Paxton had sent his message and
they were eagerly awaiting an acknowledgment.

I have  since been in almost  constant communication with Mars,  but out of
loyalty to Jason Gridley,  to whom all the credit and honor are due, I have
made  no  official  announcement,  nor  shall  I  give  out  any  important
information,  leaving all  that for his  return to  the outer world;  but I
believe  that  I  am  betraying no  confidence  if  I  narrate  to you  the
interesting story of Hadron of Hastor, which Paxton told me one evening not
long since.

I hope that you will enjoy it as much as I did.

But  before I go  on with the  story a  brief description of  the principal
races of Mars, their  political and military organization and some of their
customs may  prove of interest to many of my  readers. The dominant race in
whose hands rest the progress and civilization – yes, the very life of Mars
– differ  but little in  physical appearance from ourselves.  The fact that
their skins  are a light reddish  copper color and that  they are oviparous
constitute the two most  marked divergences from Anglo-Saxon standards. No,
there is another – their longevity. A thousand years is the natural span of
life of  a Martian, although, because of  their war-like activities and the
prevalence  of  assassination among  them,  few live  their allotted  span.

Their general political organization  has changed little in countless ages,
the unit  still being the  tribe, at the head  of which is a  chief or jed,
corresponding in modern times  to our king. The princes are known as lesser
jeds, while the chief of chiefs, or the head of consolidated tribes, is the
jeddak, or emperor, whose consort is a jeddara.

The majority  of red Martians live in walled  cities, though there are many
who reside  in isolated, though well walled  and defended, farm homes along
those rich irrigated ribbons of land that we of earth know as the Canals of
Mars.

In the far south,  that is in the south polar region, dwells a race of very
handsome and highly intelligent black men. There, also, is the remnant of a
white race; while the north polar regions are dominated by a race of yellow
men.

In between the two  poles and scattered over all the and waste lands of the
dead sea  bottoms, often inhabiting  the ruined cities of  another age, are
the feared green hordes of Mars.

The terrible  green warriors of  Barsoom are the hereditary  enemies of all
the  other races of  this martial planet.  They are  of heroic size  and in
addition to being equipped  with two legs and two arms apiece, they have an
intermediary pair  of limbs,  which may be  used at will either  as arms or
legs.  Their eyes are  set at the  extreme sides  of their heads,  a trifle
above the  center, and protrude in such a manner  that they may be directed
either  forward  or  back  and  also  independently  of  each  other,  thus
permitting these  remarkable creatures to look in  any direction, or in two
directions  at   once  without  the  necessity   of  turning  their  heads.

Their ears, which are slightly above the eyes and closer together are small
cupped-shape antennae, protruding several inches from the head, while their
noses  are but  longitudinal  slits in  the center  of their  faces, midway
between their mouths and ears.

They  have   no  hair  on  their   bodies,  which  are  of   a  very  light
yellowish-green  color  in  infancy, deepening  to  an  olive green  toward
maturity,  the  adult  males  being  darker  in  color  than  the  females.

The iris of the eyes is blood red, as an Albino's, while the pupil is dark.
The eyeball  itself is very white, as are the teeth  and it is these latter
which 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,  causing  these weapons  to  present  a
singularly formidable appearance.

They are  a cruel and taciturn  race, entirely devoid of  love, sympathy or
pity.

They are  an equestrian race, never walking other  than to move about their
camps.

Their  mounts, called  thoats, are  great savage beasts'  whose proportions
harmonize with those of their giant masters. They have eight legs and broad
flat  tails larger at  the tips than  at the  roots. They hold  these tails
straight  out while  running.  Their mouths  are enormous,  splitting their
heads from  their snouts to their long,  massive necks. Like their masters,
they are entirely devoid  of hair, their skins being a dark slate color and
exceedingly smooth  and glossy, with  the exception of the  belly, which is
white, and  the legs, which shade from the slate  of the shoulders and hips
to a  vivid yellow at the  feet. The feet are  heavily padded and nailless.

Like the red men, the green hordes are ruled by jeds and jeddaks, but their
military organization is not carried to the same detail of perfection as is
that of the red men.

The military forces of  the red men are highly organized, the principal arm
of  the service  being  the navy,  an  enormous air  force of  battleships,
cruisers  and an  infinite variety  of lesser  craft down to  one-man scout
fliers. Next in size  and importance is the infantry branch of the service,
while the  cavalry, mounted  on a breed  of small thoats,  similar to those
used by the green Martian giants, is utilized principally in patrolling the
avenues of  the cities and  the rural districts that  border the irrigating
systems.

The principal  basic unit,  although not the  smallest one of  the military
organization, is a utan,  consisting of one hundred men, which is commanded
by  a dwar  with several  padwars or  lieutenants junior  to him.  An odwar
commands a umak of  ten thousand men, while next above him is a jedwar, who
is junior only to the jed or king.

Science, literature, art and  architecture are in some of their departments
further advanced  upon Mars  than upon Earth,  a remarkable thing  when one
considers  the  constant  battle  for survival  which  is  the most  marked
characteristic of life upon Barsoom.

Not only are they waging a continual battle against Nature, which is slowly
diminishing their  already scant  atmosphere, but from birth  to death they
are constantly faced by the stern necessity of defending themselves against
enemy  nations of  their  own race  and the  great  hordes of  roving green
warriors of the dead sea bottom; while within the walls of their own cities
are countless  professional assassins, whose calling  is so well recognized
that in some localities they are organized into guilds.

But notwithstanding all the grim realities with which they have to contend,
the red  Martians are a happy, social people.  They have their games, their
dances and  their songs, and the social life of  a great capital of Barsoom
is as gay and  magnificent as any that may be found in the rich capitals of
Earth.

That they  are a brave, noble and generous people  is indicated by the fact
that neither  John Carter nor Ulysses Paxton would  return to Earth if they
might.

And now  to return  to the tale  that I had from  Paxton across forty-three
million miles of space.

One

                                SANOMA TORA

THIS IS THE STORY OF HADRON OF HASTOR, Fighting Man of Mars, as narrated by
him to Ulysses Paxton:

I am Tan Hadron of Hastor, my father is Had Urtur, Odwar of the 1st Umak of
the Troops  of Hastor. He commands the largest ship  of war that Hastor has
ever contributed to the navy of Helium, accommodating as it does the entire
ten  thousand  men of  the  1st  Umak, together  with  five hundred  lesser
fighting ships and all the paraphernalia of war. My mother is a princess of
Gathol.

As a  family we are not  rich except in honor,  and, valuing this above all
mundane possessions, I chose the profession of my father rather than a more
profitable career. The better  to further my ambition I came to the capital
of  the empire of  Helium and took  service in  the troops of  Tardos Mors,
Jeddak of Helium, that  I might be nearer the great John Carter, Warlord of
Mars.

My  life in  Helium and  my career  in the  army were  similar to  those of
hundreds  of other  young men.  I passed  through my training  days without
notable accomplishment, neither heading nor trailing my fellows, and in due
course I was made a Padwar in the 91st Umak, being assigned to the 5th Utan
of the 11th Dar.

What with  being of noble lineage  by my father and  inheriting royal blood
from my  mother, the palaces of the twin cities  of Helium were always open
to me and I entered much into the gay life of the capital. It was thus that
I  met  Sanoma  Tora,  daughter of  Tor  Hatan,  Odwar  of  the 91st  Umak.

Tor Hatan is only of the lower nobility, but he is fabulously rich from the
loot of many cities  well invested in farm land and mines, and because here
in the capital of  Helium riches count for more than they do in Hastor, Tor
Hatan is a powerful  man, whose influence reaches even to the throne of the
Jeddak.

Never shall I forget  the occasion upon which I first laid eyes upon Sanoma
Tora. It was upon the occasion of a great feast at the marble palace of The
Warlord. There  were gathered  under one roof  the most beautiful  women of
Barsoom, where,  notwithstanding the  gorgeous and radiant  beauty of Dejah
Thoris, Tara of Helium and Thuvid of Ptarth, the pulchritude of Sanoma Tora
was such  as to arrest attention. I shall not say  that it was greater than
that of those acknowledged queens of Barsoomian loveliness, for I know that
my adoration  of Sanoma Tora might easily  influence my judgment, but there
were others there who  remarked her gorgeous beauty which differs from that
of Dejah Thoris as  the chaste beauty of a polar landscape differs from the
beauty of  the tropics,  as the beauty  of a white palace  in the moonlight
differs from the beauty of its garden at midday.

When at  my solicitation I was  presented to her, she  glanced first at the
insignia upon  my armor, and noting therefrom that I  was but a Padwar, she
vouchsafed me  but a condescending  word and turned her  attention again to
the Dwar with whom she had been conversing.

I must  admit that  I was piqued  and yet it was,  indeed, the contumelious
treatment she  accorded me that fixed my determination  to win her, for the
goal  most  difficult  of  attainment has  always  seemed  to  me the  most
desirable.

And so  it was that  I fell in love  with Sanoma Tora, the  daughter of the
commander of the Umak to which I was attached.

For a  long time I found  it difficult to further  my suit in the slightest
degree; in fact I did not even see Sanoma Tora for several months after our
first meeting, since when  she found that I was poor as well as low in rank
I found it impossible to gain an invitation to her home and it chanced that
I did not meet her elsewhere for a long time, but the more inaccessible she
became the  more I loved her until every waking moment  of my time that was
not actually occupied by  the performance of my military duties was devoted
to the  devising of new and ever increasingly rash  plans to possess her. I
even had the madness to consider abducting her, and I believe that I should
eventually have gone this  far had there been no other way in which I could
see her, but about this time a fellow officer of the 91st, in fact the Dwar
of the Utan to which I was attached, took pity on me and obtained for me an
invitation to a feast in the palace of Tor Hatan.

My host,  who was also my  commanding officer, had never  noticed me before
this evening  and I was surprised to note the  warmth and cordiality of his
greetings.

"We must see more of you here, Hadron of Hastor," he had said. "I have been
watching you and I prophesy that you will go far in the military service of
the Jeddak."

Now I knew he  was lying when he said that he had been watching me, for Tor
Hatan was  notoriously lax  in his duties  as a commanding  officer, all of
which were  performed by the senior Teedwar of the  Umak. While I could not
fathom the  cause of this sudden  interest in me, it  was nevertheless very
pleasing since through it  I might in some degree further my pursuit of the
heart and hand of Sanoma Tora.

Sanoma Tora herself was slightly more cordial than upon the occasion of our
first meeting, though she  noticeably paid more attention to Sil Vagis than
she did to me.

Now  if there is  any man in  Helium whom  I particularly detest  more than
another  it is  Sil  Vagis, a  nasty little  snob  who holds  the  title of
Teedwar,  though so  far as  I was  ever able  to ascertain he  commands no
troops, but  is merely on the  staff of Tor Hatan,  principally, I presume,
because of the great wealth of his father.

Such creatures we have to put up with in times of peace, but when war comes
and the  great Warlord  takes command it  is the fighting men  who rank and
riches do not count.

But be  that as it may,  while Sil Vagis spoiled this  evening for me as he
would spoil  many others in the  future, nevertheless I left  the palace of
Tor  Hatan that  night with  a feeling  bordering upon  elation, for  I had
Sanoma  Tora's permission  to see her  again in  her father's home  when my
duties would permit me to pay my respects to her.

Returning to my quarters I was accompanied by my friend, the Dwar, and when
I  commented on  the  warmth of  Tor Hatan's  reception  of me  he laughed.

"You find it amusing," I said. "Why?"

"Tor Hatan,  as you know," he said, "is very rich  and powerful, and yet it
is seldom,  as you may have  noticed, that he is invited  to any one of the
four  places of  Helium  in which  ambitious men  most  crave to  be seen."

"You mean the palaces of the Warlord, the Jeddak, the Jed and Carthoris?" I
asked.

"Of course,"  he replied. "What other  four in Helium count  for so much as
these?  Tor Hatan,"  he  continued, "is  supposed  to come  from the  lower
nobility, but there is  a question in my mind as to whether there is a drop
of noble  blood in  his veins, and  one of the  facts upon which  I base my
conjecture is his cringing and fawning reverence for anything pertaining to
royalty –  he would give his  fat soul to be  considered an intimate of any
one of the four."

"But what has that to do with me?" I demanded.

"A great deal," he replied; "in fact, because of it you were invited to his
palace tonight."

"I do not understand," I said.

"I chanced to be talking with Tor Hatan the morning of the day you received
your invitation  and in the course of our  conversation I mentioned you. He
had never  heard of you,  and as a Padwar  in the 5th Utan  you aroused his
interest  not a  particle,  but when  I told  him  that your  mother  was a
princess of  Gathol, be pricked up  his ears, and when  he learned that you
were received as a  friend and equal in the palaces of the four demigods of
Helium, he became almost enthusiastic about you. Now do you understand?" he
concluded with a short laugh.

"Perfectly," I replied, "but  none the less, I thank you. All that I wanted
was the opportunity and inasmuch as I was prepared to achieve it criminally
if necessary, I cannot  quibble over any means that were employed to obtain
it, however unflattering they may be to me."

For months  I haunted the palace  of Tor Hatan, and  being naturally a good
conversationalist and well schooled  in the stately dances and joyous games
of Barsoom, I was  by no means an unwelcome visitor. Also I made it a point
often to  take Sanoma Tora to  one or another of  the four great palaces of
Helium.  I  was always  welcome  because  of the  blood relationship  which
existed  between my  mother and Gahan  of Gathol,  who had married  Tara of
Helium.

Naturally I felt that  I was progressing well with my suit, but my progress
was not  fast enough  to keep pace  with the racing desires  of my passion.
Never had  I known love before  and I felt that  I should die if  I did not
soon possess Sanoma Tora, and so it was that upon a certain night I visited
the palace of her father definitely determined to lay my heart and sword at
her  feet before  I left, and,  although the  natural complexes of  a lover
convinced  me  that I  was  an  unworthy worm,  that  she  would be  wholly
justified in  spurning, I  was yet determined  to declare myself  so that I
might openly  be accounted  a suitor, which,  after all, gives  one greater
freedom even though he be not entirely a favored suitor.

It was  one of those lovely nights that transform  old Barsoom into a world
of enchantment.  Thuria and Cluros were  racing through the heavens casting
their  soft light  upon  the garden  of  Tor Hatan,  empurpling the  vivid,
scarlet sward  and lending strange  hues to the gorgeous  blooms of pimalia
and sorapus, while the  winding walks, gravelled with semi-precious stones,
shot  back  a  thousand scintillant  rays  that,  clothed in  ever-changing
colors,  danced at  the  feet of  the marble  statuary  that lent  an added
artistic charm to the ensemble.

In one  of the spacious halls  that overlooked the garden  of the palace, a
youth and  a maiden sat upon  a massive bench of  rich sorapus wood, such a
bench  as might  have  graced the  halls of  the  great Jeddak  himself, so
intricate its  rich design, so perfect the  carving of the master craftsman
who produced it.

Upon the  leathern harness of the  youth were the insignia  of his rank and
service – a Padwar in the 91st Umak. The youth was I, Hadron of Hastor, and
with me was Sanoma  Tora, daughter of Tor Hatan. I had come filled with the
determination boldly to plead  my cause, but suddenly I had become aware of
my unworthiness.  What had I to  offer this beautiful daughter  of the rich
Tor Hatan?  I was only a  Padwar, and a poor one  at that. Of course, there
was the  royal blood  of Gathol in my  veins, and that, I  knew, would have
weight with Tor Hatan,  but I am not given to boasting and I could not have
reminded Sanoma Tora of the advantages to be derived because of it even had
I known  positively that it would influence  her. I had, therefore, nothing
to offer but my great love, which is, perhaps, after all, the greatest gift
that man  or woman  can bring to  another, and I  had thought  of late that
Sanoma Tora might love me. Upon several occasions she had sent for me, and,
although in each instance  she had suggested going to the palace of Tara of
Helium, I  had been vain enough  to hope that this  was not her sole reason
for wishing to be with me.

"You  are  uninteresting  tonight,  Hadron of  Hastor,"  she  said after  a
particularly long silence, during which I had been endeavoring to formulate
my proposal in some convincing and graceful phrases.

"Perhaps," I replied, "it is because I am trying to find the words in which
to  clothe   the  most  interesting  thought   I  have  ever  entertained."

"And  what is  that?"  she asked  politely, though  with  no great  show of
interest.

"I love you, Sanoma Tora," I blurted awkwardly.

She laughed.  It was like the  tinkling of silver upon  crystal – beautiful
but cold.  "That has  been apparent for  a long while," she  said, "but why
speak of it?"

"And why not?" I asked.

"Because even if I returned your love, I am not for you, Hadron of Hastor,"
she replied coldly.

"You cannot love me then, Sanoma Tora?" I asked.

"I did not say that," she replied.

"You could love me?"

"I could love you  if I permitted myself the weakness," she said, "but what
is love?"

"Love is everything," I told her.

Sanoma Tora  laughed. "If you think that I would link  myself for life to a
threadbare  Padwar  even  if  I loved  him,  you  are  mistaken," she  said
haughtily. "I am the  daughter of Tor Hatan, whose wealth and power are but
little  less than  those of the  royal families  of Helium. I  have suitors
whose wealth  is so  great that they  could buy you a  thousand times over.
Within the year an emissary of the Jeddak Tul Axtar of Jahar waited upon my
father; he  had seen me and  he said that he  would return, and, merely for
love, you would ask  me, who may some day be Jeddara of Jahar to become the
wife of a poor Padwar."

I arose.  "Perhaps you  are right," I  said. "You are so  beautiful that it
does not  seem possible  that you could  be wrong, but  deep in  my heart I
cannot  but feel  that  happiness is  the  greatest treasure  that one  may
possess, and  love the greatest  power. Without these, Sanoma  Tora, even a
Jeddara is poor indeed."

"I shall take my chance," she said.

"I  hope that  the Jeddak  of Jahar is  not as  greasy as his  emissary," I
remarked rather peevishly, I am afraid.

"He may  be an animated  grease-pot for all I  care if he will  make me his
Jeddara," said Sanoma Tora.

"Then there is no hope for me?" I asked.

"Not   while  you  have   so  little   to  offer,  Padwar,"   she  replied.

It was  then that a slave  announced Sil Vagis, and I  took my leave. I had
never before  plumbed such depths of despondency  as that which engulfed me
as I  made my unhappy way back to my quarters,  but even though hope seemed
dead  I had  not relinquished my  determination to  win her. If  wealth and
power were her price, then I would achieve wealth and power. Just how I was
going to accomplish it was not entirely clear, but I was young and to youth
all things are possible.

I had  tossed in wakefulness upon my sleeping silks  and furs for some time
when   an  officer  of   the  guard   burst  suddenly  into   my  quarters.

"Hadron!" he shouted, "are you here?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Praised be  the ashes of my  ancestors!" he exclaimed. "I  feared that you
were not."

"Why  should   I  not   be?"  I  demanded.   "What  is  this   all  about?"

"Tor  Hatan,  the  fat  old  treasure  bag,  is gone  mad,"  he  exclaimed.

"Tor Hatan  gone mad? What do  you mean? What has that  got to do with me?"

"He swears that you have abducted his daughter."

In an  instant I  was upon my  feet. "Abducted Sanoma Tora!"  I cried. "Has
something happened to her? Tell me, quickly."

"Yes, she  is gone, all right," said my  informant, "and there is something
mighty mysterious about it."

But I did not wait to hear more. Seizing my harness, I adjusted it as I ran
up the spiral runway  toward the hangars on the roof of the barracks. I had
no authority or permit to take out a flier, but what did that mean to me if
Sanoma Tora was in danger?

The hangar guards sought  to detain and question me. I do not recall what I
told them; I know  that I must have lied to them, for they let me run out a
swift one-man  flier and  an instant later  I was racing  through the night
toward the palace of Tor Hatan.

As it stands but  little more than two haads from the barracks, I was there
in  but a  few  moments, and,  as I  landed  in the  garden, which  was now
brilliantly lighted, I saw a number of people congregated there, among whom
were Tor Hatan and Sil Vagis.

As I leaped from  the deck of the flier, the former came angrily toward me.
"So it is  you!" he cried. "What have you to say  for yourself? Where is my
daughter?"

"That is what I have come to ask, Tor Hatan," I replied.

"You are at the  bottom of this," he cried. "You abducted her. She told Sil
Vagis that  this very night you had demanded her  hand in marriage and that
she had refused you."

"I did ask  for her hand," I said, "and she refused  me. That part is true;
but if  she has been abducted,  in the name of  your first ancestor, do not
waste time trying to  connect me with the diabolical plot. I had nothing to
do with it. How did it happen? Who was with her?"

"Sil  Vagis was  with her. They  were walking  in the garden,"  replied Tor
Hatan.

"You saw  her abducted," I asked,  turning to Sil Vagis,  "and you are here
unwounded and alive?"

He  started  to  stammer.  "There  were  many  of  them,"  he  said.  "They
overpowered me."

"You saw them?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Was I among them?" I demanded.

"It  was  dark. I  could  not  recognize any  of  them,  perhaps they  were
disguised."

"They overpowered you?" I asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"You  lie!" I  exclaimed. "Had  they laid  hands upon  you they  would have
killed  you. You ran  away and hid,  never drawing  a weapon to  defend the
girl."

"That is a lie," cried Sil Vagis. "I fought with them, but they overpowered
me."

I turned to Tor  Hatan. "We are wasting time," I said. "Is there no one who
can give us  a clue as to the identity of these  men and the direction they
took in  their flight?  How and whence  came they? How and  whence did they
depart?"

"He is trying to  throw you off the track, Tor Hatan," said Sil Vagis. "Who
else could  it have been but a disgruntled suitor? What  would you say if I
should tell  you that  the metal of the  men who stole Sanoma  Tora was the
metal of the warriors of Hastor?"

"I would say that  you are a liar," I replied. "If it  was so dark that you
could not  recognize faces, how could you  decipher the insignia upon their
harness?"

At this juncture another officer of the 91st Umak joined us. "We have found
one who  may, perhaps, shed some  light upon the subject,"  he said, "if he
lives long enough to speak."

Men had  been searching  the grounds of  Tor Hatan and that  portion of the
city adjacent to his palace, and now several approached bearing a man, whom
they  laid upon  the sward  at our  feet. His  broken and mangled  body was
entirely naked,  and as  he lay there  gasping feebly for breath,  he was a
pitiful spectacle.

A slave dispatched into  the palace returned with stimulants, and when some
of  these had  been  forced between  his  lips, the  man revived  slightly.

"Who are you?" asked Tor Hatan.

"I   am  a   warrior  of   the  city   guard,"  replied  the   man  feebly.

An officer approached Tor Hatan excitedly. "My men have just found six more
bodies close to the  point at which we discovered this man," he said. "They
are all naked and similarly broken and mangled."

"Perhaps  we shall get  to the bottom  of this  yet," said Tor  Hatan, and,
turning again to the poor, broken thing upon the scarlet sward, he directed
him to proceed.

"We were on night  patrol over the city when we saw a craft running without
lights. As we approached  it and turned our searchlight upon it, I caught a
single, brief  glimpse of it. It  bore no colors or  insignia to denote its
origin and its design  was unlike that of any ship I have ever seen. It had
a  long, low,  enclosed cabin upon  either side  of which were  mounted two
peculiar looking guns. This was all I had time to note, except that I saw a
man directing  one of the guns  in our direction. The  padwar in command of
our ship immediately gave orders to fire upon the stranger, and at the same
time he hailed him.  At that instant our ship dissolved in mid-air; even my
harness  fell from  me. I remember  falling, that  is all," and  with these
words he gasped once and died.

Tor Hatan called his people around him. "There must have been someone about
the palace  or the grounds who saw something  of this occurrence," he said.
"I command  that no matter who  may be involved, whoever  has any knowledge
whatsoever of this affair, shall speak."

A  slave stepped  forward, and  as he  approached Tor  Hatan eyed  him with
haughty arrogance.

"Well,"   demanded   the   odwar,   "what   have  you   to   say?   Speak!"

"You have commanded it, Tor Hatan," said the slave; "otherwise I should not
speak, for when I  have told what I saw I shall have incurred the enmity of
a   powerful   noble,"   and  he   glanced   quickly   toward  Sil   Vagis.

"And if  you speak  the truth, man, you  will have won the  friendship of a
padwar whose sword  is not so mean but that it may  protect you even from a
powerful noble,"  I said quickly, and I, too, glanced  at Sil Vagis, for it
was  in  my mind  that  what  the fellow  had  to  tell might  be none  too
flattering to the soft  fop who masqueraded beneath the title of a warrior.

Speak!" commanded Tor Hatan  impatiently. "And see to it that thou dost not
lie."

"For fourteen  years I have  served faithfully in your  palace, Tor Hatan,"
replied  the man, "ever  since I was  brought to  Helium a prisoner  of war
after the fall  and sack of Kobol, where I served in  the body guard of the
Jed of  Kobol, and in all  that time you have had  no reason to question my
truthfulness. Sanoma Tora trusted  me, and had I had a sword this night she
might still be with us."

"Come!  Come!  cried  Tor   Hatan;  "get  to  the  point.  What  saw  you?"

"The fellow  saw nothing," snapped Sil Vagis. "Why  waste time upon him? He
seeks but to glory in a little brief notoriety.

"Let him speak," I exclaimed.

"I had  just ascended  the first ramp  to the second level  of the palace,"
explained the  slave, "on my way  to the sleeping quarters  of Tor Hatan to
arrange his  sleeping silks  and furs for  the night as is  my custom, and,
pausing for a moment to look out into the garden, I saw Sanoma Tora and Sil
Vagis walking  in the moonlight.  Conscious that I should  not thus observe
them, I was about  to continue on my way about my duties when I saw a flier
dropping  silently out  of  the night  toward the  garden. Its  motors were
noiseless,  it showed  no  light. It  seemed a  spectral  ship and  of such
strange design  that even if for no other reason  it would have arrested my
attention, but  there were other reasons.  Unlighted ships move through the
night for no good purpose, and so I paused to watch it.

"It landed  silently and quickly behind Sanoma Tora  and Sil Vagis; nor did
they seem aware of  its presence until their attention was attracted by the
slight clanking  of the  accoutrements of one  of the several  warriors who
sprang from its low cabin as it grounded. Then Sil Vagis wheeled about. For
just  an instant  he  stood as  though petrified  and  then as  the strange
warriors  leaped  toward  him,  he  turned  and fled  into  the  concealing
shrubbery of the garden."

"It is a lie," cried Sil Vagis.

"Silence, coward!" I commanded.

"Continue, slave!" directed Tor Hatan.

"Sanoma Tora  was not aware of  the presence of the  strange warriors until
she  was seized  roughly from  behind. It  all happened  so quickly  that I
scarce had  time to realize  the purpose of the  sinister visitation before
they  laid hands  upon her. When  I comprehended  that my mistress  was the
object of  this night attack, I  rushed hurriedly down the  ramp, but ere I
reached  the garden  they  had dragged  her  aboard the  flier. Even  then,
however, had  I had a  sword I might at  least have died in  the service of
Sanoma  Tora, for I  reached the ship  of mystery  as the last  warrior was
clambering aboard. I seized him by the harness and attempted to drag him to
the ground,  at the same time shouting loudly  to attract the palace guard,
but ere  I did  so one of  his fellows on  the deck above me  drew his long
sword and  struck viciously at my head. The blade  caught me but a glancing
blow which, however, sufficed to stun me for a moment, so that I relaxed my
hold  upon the  strange  warrior and  fell to  the  sward. When  I regained
consciousness the ship had gone and the tardy palace guard was pouring from
the guard room. I have spoken – and spoken truthfully."

Tor Hatan's cold gaze  sought out the lowered eyes of Sil Vagis. "What have
you to say to this?" he demanded.

"The fellow  is in the employ of Hadron of  Hastor," shouted Sil Vagis. "He
speaks nothing  but lies.  I attacked them  when they came,  but there were
many   and   they   overpowered  me.   This   fellow   was  not   present."

"Let me see thy  head," I said to the slave, and when he had come and knelt
before me I saw  a great red welt the length of one  side of his head above
the ear, just such  a welt as a glancing blow from the  flat side of a long
sword might  have made. "Here," I said to Tor  Hatan, pointing to the great
welt, "is the proof of a slave's loyalty and courage. Let us see the wounds
received  by  a  noble  of Helium  who  by  his  own  testimony engaged  in
single-handed  combat against great  odds. Surely  in such an  encounter he
must have received at least a single scratch."

"Unless he  is as marvelous a swordsman as  the great John Carter himself,"
said  the   dwar  of  the   palace  guard  with  a   thinly  veiled  sneer.

'It is all a  plot," cried Sil Vagis. "Do you take the word of a slave, Tor
Hatan, against that of a noble of Helium?"

"I rely on the  testimony of my eyes and my senses," replied the odwar, and
he turned  his back  upon Sil Vagis  and again addressed  the slave. "Didst
thou recognize  any of  those who abducted  Sanoma Tora," he  demanded, "or
note their harness or their metal?"

"I got no good  look at the face of any of them,  but I did see the harness
and   the  metal   of  him  whom   I  tried   to  drag  from   the  flier."

"Was it the metal of Hastor?" asked Tor Hatan.

"By my  first ancestor, it  was not," replied the  slave emphatically; "nor
was it the metal  of any other city of the Empire of Helium. The design and
the insignia  were unknown to me,  and yet there was  a certain familiarity
about them  that tantalizes  me. I feel  that I have seen  them before, but
when and where I  cannot recall. In the service of my jed I fought invaders
from many lands  and it may be that upon some of  these I saw similar metal
many years ago."

"Are you satisfied, Tor  Hatan," I demanded, "that the aspersions cast upon
me by Sil Vagis are without foundation?"

"Yes, Hadron of Hastor," replied the odwar.

"Then with your leave, I shall depart," I said.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To find Sanoma Tora," I replied.

"And  if you  find her,"  he said,  "and return  her safely  to me,  she is
yours."

I made  no other acknowledgment of  his generous offer than  to bow deeply,
for I had it  in my mind that Sanoma Tora might have something to say about
that,  and whether  she had or  not, I wished  no mate  who came not  to me
willingly.

Leaping to the deck  of the flier that brought me I rose into the night and
sped in the direction  of the marble palace of the Warlord of Barsoom, for,
even  though the  hour was  late, I  was determined  to see him  without an
instant's unnecessary loss of time.

Two

                                BROUGHT DOWN

AS I  APPROACHED THE WARLORD'S PALACE  I saw signs of  activity unusual for
that  hour of  the night. Fliers  were arriving  and departing, and  when I
alighted upon  that portion of the roof reserved  for military ships, I saw
the  fliers  of  a   number  of  high  officers  of  the  Warlord's  staff.

Being  a frequent visitor  at the palace  and being  well known by  all the
officers  of the  Warlord's  body guard,  I  had no  difficulty in  gaining
admission to the palace,  and presently I was waiting in the hall, just off
the small  compartment in  which the Warlord  is accustomed to  give small,
private   audiences,   while  a   slave   announced  me   to  his   master.

I do not know  how long I waited. It could not have  been a long while, yet
it seemed  to me a veritable eternity, because my  mind was harassed by the
conviction that the woman  I loved was in dire danger. I was possessed by a
conviction, ridiculous perhaps, but  none the less real, that I alone could
save  her and  that every  instant I  was delayed  reduced her  chances for
succor before it was too late.

But at last I was invited to enter, and when I stood in the presence of the
great Warlord I found him surrounded by men high in the councils of Helium.

"I  assume," said  John Carter,  coming directly  to the point,  "that what
brings you  here tonight, Hadron of  Hastor, pertains to the  matter of the
abduction  of the  daughter of  Tor Hatan.  Have you  any knowledge  or any
theory that might cast any light upon the subject?"

"No," I replied. "I  have come merely to obtain your authority to depart at
once in  an attempt to pick up the trail of  the abductors of Sanoma Tora."

"Where do you intend to search?" he demanded.

"I  do   not  yet  know,  sir,"   I  replied,  "but  I   shall  find  her."

He smiled. "Such assurance  is at least an asset," he said, "and knowing as
I do  what prompts it, I  shall grant you the  permission you desire. While
the abduction of a daughter of Helium is in itself of sufficient gravity to
warrant the use of every resource to apprehend her abductors and return her
to her home, there  is also involved in this occurrence an element that may
portend high  danger to the  empire. As you doubtless  know, the mysterious
ship that  bore her away mounted a gun from  which emanated some force that
entirely disintegrated all the  metal parts of the patrol flier that sought
to intercept  and question it. Even  the weapons and the  metal portions of
the  harness of  the crew  were dissipated  into nothing,  a fact  that was
easily discernible from an examination of the wreck of the patrol flier and
the bodies of its  crew. Wood, leather, flesh, everything of the animal and
vegetable kingdom that was aboard the flier, has been found scattered about
the ground  where it fell, but no trace  of any metallic substance remains.

"I am  impressing this upon you  because it suggests to  my mind a possible
clue to the general  location of the city of these new enemies of Helium. I
am convinced  that this  is but the  first blow, since any  navy armed with
such guns  could easily  hold Helium at  its mercy, and few  indeed are the
cities of Barsoom outside the empire that would not seize with avidity upon
any  instrument  that  would  give  them  the  sack  of  the  Twin  Cities.

"For some  time now we have been deeply  concerned by the increasing number
of  missing ships  of the navy.  In nearly  all instances these  were ships
engaged  in charting  air currents  and recording atmospheric  pressures in
different parts of Barsoom  far from the empire, and recently it has become
apparent  that the  vast majority  of these  ships which never  return were
those  cruising  in  the  southern  part  of  the  western  hemisphere,  an
unhospitable portion  of our planet concerning  which we have unfortunately
but little knowledge owing to the fact that we have developed no trade with
the unfriendly people inhabiting this vast domain.

"This, Hadron  of Hastor, is only a suggestion;  only the vaguest of clues,
but I offer it to you for what it is worth. A thousand one-man scout fliers
will be dispatched between now and noon tomorrow in search of the abductors
of Sanoma  Tora; nor will these be all.  Cruisers and battleships will take
the  air  as well,  for  Helium  must know  what  city or  what nation  has
developed  a weapon  of  destruction such  as that  used above  Helium this
night.

"It  is my  belief that  the weapon  is of  very recent invention  and that
whatever power possesses it, must be bending every effort to perfect it and
produce it in such  quantities as to make them masters of the world. I have
spoken. Go, and may fortune be with you."

You may believe that I lost no time in setting out upon my mission now that
I  had authority  from  John Carter.  Going to  my  quarters I  hastened my
preparation for departure, which  consisted principally of making a careful
selection of  weapons and of exchanging a rather  ornate harness I had been
wearing for one of  simpler design and of heavier and more durable leather.
My fighting harness is  always the best and plainest that I can procure and
is made  for me by a famous harnessmaker of  Lesser Helium. My equipment of
weapons was  standard, consisting of a long sword,  a short sword, a dagger
and a pistol. I  also provided myself with extra ammunition and a supply of
the   concentrated    ration   used   by   all    Martian   fighting   men.

As  I  gathered together  these  simple  necessities which,  with a  single
sleeping  fur, would  constitute my  equipment, my  mind was given  over to
consideration of various explanations for the disappearance of Sanoma Tora.
I  searched  my  brain  for any  slightest  memory  that  might suggest  an
explanation, or point toward the possible identity of her abductors. It was
while thus  engaged that I recalled her reference  to the jeddak, Tul Axtar
of  Jahar nor  was  there within  the scope  of  my recollection  any other
incident that might point a clue. I distinctly recalled the emissary of Tul
Axtar who  had visited the court of Helium not long  since. I had heard him
boast of  the riches and power  of his jeddak and  the beauty of his women.
Perhaps, then,  it might be as well to search in  the direction of Jahar as
elsewhere, but before departing I determined once again to visit the palace
of Tor  Hatan and  question the slave who  had been the last  to see Sanoma
Tora.

As I was  about to set out, another thought occurred to  me. I knew that in
the Temple of Knowledge  might be found either illustrations or replicas of
the metal  and harness of  every nation of Barsoom,  concerning which aught
was known  in Helium.  I therefore repaired  immediately to the  temple and
with the  assistance of a clerk I presently found  a drawing of the harness
and metal of a warrior of Jahar. By an ingenious photostatic process a copy
of this  illustration was  made for me  in a few  seconds, and  with this I
hastened to the palace of Tor Hatan.

The odwar  was absent,  having gone to  the palace of the  Warlord, but his
major-domo summoned  the slave, Kal Tavan,  who had witnessed the abduction
of Sanoma Tora and grappled with one of her abductors.

As  the  man  approached  I  noticed  him  more  particularly  than  I  had
previously. He  was well built, with clear cut  features and that air which
definitely bespeaks the fighting man.

"You   said,   I   believe,   that  you   were   from   Kobol?"  I   asked.

"I was  born in Tjanath," he replied. "I had a  wife and daughter there. My
wife fell  before the hand of an assassin  and my daughter disappeared when
she was very young. I never knew what became of her. The familiar scenes of
Tjanath reminded me of  happier days and so increased my grief that I could
not remain. I turned  panthan then and sought service in other cities; thus
I served in Kobol."

"And  there you  became familiar  with the  harness and  the metal  of many
cities and nations?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"What harness and metal are these?" I demanded, handing him the copy of the
illustration I had brought from the Temple of Knowledge.

He examined  it briefly and then his eyes  lighted with recognition. "It is
the same," he said. "It is identical."

"Identical with what?" I asked.

"With the harness worn by the warrior with whom I grappled at the time that
Sanoma Tora was stolen," he replied.

"The identity of the  abductors of Sanoma Tora is established," I said, and
then I  turned to the major-domo. "Send a messenger  at once to the Warlord
informing him  that the daughter of Tor Hatan was  stolen by men from Jahar
and that it is  my belief that they are the emissaries of Tul Axtar, Jeddak
of  Jahar," and  without more  words I  turned and  left the  palace, going
directly to my flier.

As I  arose above the towers and domes and  lofty landing stages of Greater
Helium, I turned the  prow of my flier toward the west and opening wide the
throttle sped  swiftly through  the thin air  of dying Barsoom  toward that
great  unknown expanse  of  her remote  southwestern hemisphere,  somewhere
within  the  vast reaches  of  which  lay Jahar  toward  which,  I was  now
convinced, Sanoma  Tora was  being borne to  become not the  Jeddara of Tul
Axtar, but  his slave,  for jeddaks take  not their jeddaras  by force upon
Barsoom.

I believed that I understood the explanation of Sanoma Tora's abduction, an
explanation that  would have caused her intensive  chagrin since it was far
from flattery.  I believed  that Tul Axtar's  emissary had reported  to his
master the charm and  beauty of the daughter of Tor Hatan, but that she was
not  of sufficiently  noble  birth to  become his  jeddara,  and so  he had
adopted the  only expedient by which he might  possess her. My blood boiled
at the  suggestion, but  my judgment told  me that it  was doubtless right.

During the past  few years – I should say the last  ten or twenty – greater
strides have  been taken  in the advancement  of aeronautics than  had been
previously achieved in the preceding five hundred years.

The perfection of the destination control compass by Carthoris of Helium is
considered by many authorities to have marked the beginning of a new era of
invention. For  centuries we  seemed to have  stagnated in a  quiet pond of
self sufficiency,  as though we  had reached the acme  of perfection beyond
which it  was useless to seek  for improvement upon what  we considered the
highest possible achievements of science.

Carthoris  of  Helium,  inheriting  the  restless, inquiring  mind  of  his
earth-born sire,  awoke us.  Our best minds  took up the  challenge and the
result was rapid improvement in design and construction of air ships of all
classes, leading to a revolution in motor building.

We had thought that  our light, compact, powerful radium motors never could
be  improved  upon  and  that man  never  would  travel,  either safely  or
economically, at  a speed greater  than that attained by  our swift one-man
scout fliers – about eleven hundred haads per zode (Note: Approximately one
hundred  and sixty-six  earth  miles per  hour),  when a  virtually unknown
padwar in the navy  of Helium announced that he had perfected a motor that,
with one-half  the weight  of our present  motors, would develop  twice the
speed.

It  was this  type of  motor with  which my  scout flier  was equipped  – a
seemingly fuelless  motor, since it derived  its invisible and imponderable
energy from the inexhaustible and illimitable magnetic field of the planet.

There are  certain basic features of  the new motor that  only the inventor
and the  government of Helium are fully conversant  with and these are most
jealously guarded. The propeller  shaft, which extends well within the hull
of the  flier, is  constructed of numerous lateral  segments insulated from
one  another.  Around  this   shaft  and  supporting  it  is  a  series  of
armature-like   bearings,  through   the   center  of   which  it   passes.

These are  connected in series with a  device called an accumulator through
which the  planet's magnetic  energy is directed to  the peculiar armatures
which encircle the propeller shaft.

Speed  is controlled by  increasing or  diminishing the number  of armature
bearings  in  series  with  the  accumulator  –  all  of  which  is  simply
accomplished by  a lever  which the pilot  moves from his  position on deck
where he ordinarily lies upon his stomach, his safety belt snapped to heavy
rings in the deck.

The limit of speed, the inventor claims, is dependent solely upon the ratio
of strength  to weight  in the construction  of the hull.  My one-man scout
flier  easily  attains a  speed  of  two thousand  haads  per  zode  (Note:
Approximately three  hundred miles per  hour), nor could  it have withstood
the tremendous  strain of a more powerful motor,  though it would have been
easy to have increased  both the power of one and the speed of the other by
the  simple expedient of  a longer  propeller shaft carrying  an additional
number of armature bearings.

In experimenting  with the  new motor at  Hastor last year,  an attempt was
made  to drive  a  scout flier  at  the exceptional  speed of  thirty-three
hundred haads per zode  (Note: Approximately five hundred miles per hour; a
haad being  1949.0592 earth feet and  a zode 2462 earth  hours), but before
the ship had attained  a speed of three thousand haads per zode it was torn
to  pieces by  its  own motor.  Now we  are trying  to attain  the greatest
strength with  the minimum of weight and as  our engineers succeed we shall
see  speed increased  until, I  am sure,  we shall  easily attain  to seven
thousand haads per zode (Note: Over one thousand miles per hour), for there
seems  to   be  no   limit  to  the   power  of  these   marvelous  motors.

Little less  marvelous is  the destination control compass  of Carthoris of
Helium.  Set your  pointer upon  any spot  on either hemisphere;  open your
throttle and  then lie  down and go  to sleep if  you will.  Your ship will
carry you  to your  destination, drop within  a hundred yards or  so of the
ground and  stop, while  an alarm awakens  you. It is really  a very simple
device, but I believe that John Carter has fully described it in one of his
numerous manuscripts.

In the adventure upon  which I had embarked the destination control compass
was  of little  value to  me, since I  did not  know the exact  location of
Jahar.  However, I  set it roughly  at a  point about thirty  degrees south
latitude, thirty-five degrees east  longitude, as I believed that Jahar lay
somewhere to the southwest of that point.

Flying at high speed I had long since left behind the cultivated areas near
Helium and  was crossing above a desolate and  deserted waste of ocher moss
that clothed the dead  sea bottoms where once rolled a mighty ocean bearing
upon its  bosom the  shipping of a  happy and prosperous people,  now but a
half-forgotten memory in the legends of Barsoom.

Upon the  edges of plateaus that once had marked the  shore line of a noble
continent I  passed above the lonely  monuments of that ancient prosperity,
the sad,  deserted cities  of old Barsoom.  Even in their ruins  there is a
grandeur and  magnificence that still has  power to awe a  modern man. Down
toward the  lowest sea bottoms other ruins mark  the tragic trail that that
ancient civilization had followed  in pursuit of the receding waters of its
ocean to  where the last city finally  succumbed, bereft of commerce, shorn
of power, to fall at last an easy victim to the marauding hordes of fierce,
green tribesmen, whose descendants now are the sole rulers of many of these
deserted  sea bottoms.  Hating  and hated,  ignorant of  love,  laughter or
happiness, they  lead their long, fierce  lives quarreling among themselves
and  their neighbors  and preying  upon any  chance adventurers  who happen
within the confines of their bitter and desolate domain.

Fierce and terrible as are all green men, there are few whose cruel natures
and bloody  exploits have horrified the minds of red  men to such an extent
as have the green hordes of Torquas.

The city of Torquas, from which they derive their name, was one of the most
magnificent and  powerful of  ancient Barsoom. Though it  has been deserted
for ages  by all but roaming  tribes of green men,  it is still marked upon
every map, and as it lay directly in the path of my search for Jahar and as
I had  never seen it, I  had purposely laid my course  to pass over it, and
when, far  ahead, I saw its lofty towers and  battlements I felt the thrill
of excitement and the  lure of adventure which these dead cities of Barsoom
proverbially exert upon us red men.

As I approached the  city I reduced my speed and dropped lower that I might
obtain a better view  of it. What a beautiful city it must have been in its
time!  Even today,  after all  the ages  that have  passed since  its broad
avenues  surged  with the  life  of  happy, prosperous  throngs, its  great
palaces  still stand  in  all their  glorious splendor,  that time  and the
elements   have   softened   and   mellowed,   but   not   yet   destroyed.

As I circled low  above the city I saw miles of avenues that have not known
the foot  of man for countless  ages. The stone flagging  of their pavement
was  overgrown with ocher  moss, with here  and there  a stunted tree  or a
grotesque shrub  of one of those varieties  that somehow find sustenance in
the and  wasteland. Silent,  deserted courtyards looked up  at me, gorgeous
gardens of  another happier day. Here and there the  roof of a building had
fallen in, but for the most part they remained intact, dreaming, doubtless,
of  the wealth  and beauty  that they  had known  in days  of yore,  and in
imagination I could see  the gorgeous sleeping silks and furs spread out in
the sunlight,  while the women  idled beneath gay canopies  of silks, their
jeweled harnesses  scintillating with each move of  their bodies. I saw the
pennons waving  from countless thousands  of staffs and the  great ships at
anchor in the harbor  rose and fell to the undulations of the restless sea.
There  were swaggering sailors  upon the  avenues, and burly,  fighting men
before the doors of  every palace. Ali, what a picture imagination conjured
from  the deathlike  silence of that  deserted city,  and then, as  a long,
swinging circle  brought me above  the courtyard of a  splendid palace that
faced  upon the  city's  great central  square, my  eyes beheld  that which
shattered my  beautiful dream of the past. Directly below  me I saw a score
of great  thoats penned  in what once may  have been the royal  garden of a
jeddak.

The presence  of these huge beasts  meant but one thing,  and that was that
their green masters were to be found nearby.

As I passed above  the courtyard one of the restless, vicious beasts looked
up and saw me and instantly he commenced to squeal angrily. Immediately the
other thoats,  their short temper aroused by  the squealing of their fellow
and their attention directed by his upward gaze, discovered me and set up a
perfect pandemonium of grunts  and squeals, which brought the result that I
had immediately  foreseen. A  green warrior leaped into  the courtyard from
the interior  of the palace and  looked up just in time  to see me before I
passed  from   his  line  of  vision  above   the  roof  of  the  building.

Realizing immediately that this  was no place for me to loiter, I opened my
throttle and at the  same time rose swiftly toward a greater altitude. As I
passed over  the building and out  across the avenue in  front of it, I saw
some  twenty green  warriors pour  out of  the building, their  upward gaze
searching the skies. The warrior on guard had apprised them of my presence.

I cursed  myself for a stupid fool in  having taken this unnecessary chance
merely to  satisfy my  idle curiosity. Instantly  I took a  zig-zag, upward
course, rising  as swiftly  as I could,  while from below a  savage war cry
rose plainly  to my ears. I saw long, wicked looking  rifles aimed at me. I
heard the hiss of  projectiles hurtling by me, but, though the first volley
passed close to us,  not a bullet struck the ship. In a moment more I would
be out of range and safe and I prayed to a thousand ancestors to protect me
for the few brief  minutes that would be necessary to place me entirely out
of  harm's  way. I  thought  that  I had  made  it  and was  just about  to
congratulate myself  upon my  good luck when  I heard the thud  of a bullet
against the metal of my ship and almost simultaneously the explosion of the
projectile, and then I was out of range.

Angry cries  of disappointment  came faintly to  my ears as  I sped swiftly
toward the  southwest, relieved that I had been so  fortunate as to be able
to get away without suffering any damage.

I had already flown  about seventy karads (Note: A karad is equivalent to a
degree of longitude) from Helium, but I was aware that Jahar might still be
fifty to  seventy-five karads  distant and I  made up my mind  that I would
take no  more chances  such as those  from which I had  just so fortunately
escaped.

I  was  now  moving  at great  speed  again  and  I  had scarcely  finished
congratulating myself upon my good fortune when it suddenly became apparent
to me that I was having difficulty in maintaining my altitude. My flier was
losing buoyancy and almost  immediately I guessed, what investigation later
revealed, that one of my buoyancy tanks had been punctured by the explosive
bullet of the green warriors.

To reproach  myself for  my carelessness seemed  a useless waste  of mental
energy, though I can  assure you that I was keenly aware of my fault and of
its  possible  bearing  upon  the fate  of  Sanoma  Tora,  from the  active
prosecution of whose rescue I might now be entirely eliminated. The results
as they affected me did not appall me half so much as did the contemplation
of  the unquestioned  danger in which  Sanoma Tora  must be, from  which my
determination to  rescue her had so obsessed me  that there had not entered
into my thoughts any slightest consideration of failure.

The mishap  was a severe blow  to my hopes and yet  it did not shatter them
entirely, for I am so constituted that I know I shall never give up hope of
success in any issue as long as life remains to me.

How much  longer my ship would remain afloat it  was difficult to say, and,
having no  means of making such  repairs as would be  necessary to conserve
the  remaining contents  of the  punctured buoyancy  tank, the best  that I
could do was to increase my speed so that I might cover as much distance as
possible before  I was  forced down. The  construction of my  ship was such
that at  high speed it tended to maintain itself in  the air with a minimum
of the Eighth  Ray in its buoyancy tanks; yet I knew  that the time was not
far distant  when I should have to make a  landing in this dreary, desolate
wasteland.

I had  covered something in the neighborhood of  two thousand haads since I
had been fired upon above Torquas, crossing what had been a large gulf when
the  waters of  the ocean  rolled over  the vast  plains that now  lay moss
covered  and arid beneath  me. Far ahead  I could  see the outlines  of low
hills that must have marked the southwestern shore line of the gulf. Toward
the northwest  the dead sea bottom extended as far  as the eye could reach,
but this  was not the direction  I wished to take, and  so I sped on toward
the hills  hoping that I might maintain  sufficient altitude to cross them,
but  as they  swiftly  loomed closer  this hope  died  in my  breast  and I
realized that the end  of my flight was now but a matter of moments. At the
same time I discerned  the ruins of a deserted city nestling at the foot of
the hills; nor was  this an unwelcome sight since water is almost always to
be  found in the  wells of these  ancient cities,  which have been  kept in
repair by the green nomads of the wasteland.

By now I was skimming but a few ads above the surface of the ground. (Note:
An ad is about 9.75 earth feet.) I had greatly diminished my speed to avoid
a serious  accident in landing and because of this  the end was hastened so
that presently  I came gently to rest upon  the ocher vegetation scarcely a
haad from the water-front of the deserted city.

Three

                                  CORNERED

MY LANDING  was most unfortunate in  that it left me  in plain sight of the
city without any place  of concealment in the event that the ruins happened
to be  occupied by one of  the numerous tribes of  green men who infest the
dead  sea bottoms  of Barsoom,  often making  their headquarters in  one or
another   of   the   deserted  cities   that   line   the  ancient   shore.

The  fact  that  they  usually  choose  to  inhabit the  largest  and  most
magnificent  of the ancient  palaces and  that these ordinarily  stand back
some little  distance from the water-front  rendered it quite possible that
even in the  event that there were green men in the  city I might reach the
concealing safety of one of the nearer buildings before I was discovered by
them.

My flier being now useless, there was nothing to do but abandon it, and so,
with  only my  weapons,  ammunition and  a little  concentrated  rations, I
walked quickly in the  direction of the age old water-front. Whether or not
I reached  the buildings unobserved, I was unable  to determine, but at any
rate I  did reach them without seeing any sign  of a living creature about.

Portions of  many of  these ancient, deserted  cities are inhabited  by the
great white  apes of Barsoom, which are in many  respects more to be feared
than  the  green  warriors  themselves, for  not  only  are these  man-like
creatures  endowed  with enormous  strength  and  characterized by  intense
ferocity, but they are also voracious man-eaters. So terrible are they that
it is  said that they are  the only living creatures  that can instill fear
within the breasts of the green men of Barsoom.

Knowing the  possible dangers that might lurk  within the precincts of this
ruin, it  may be wondered that  I approached it at all,  but as a matter of
fact there was no safe alternative. Out upon the dead monotony of the ocher
moss of  the sea bottom, I  should have been discovered  by the first white
ape or green Martian  that approached the city from that direction, or that
chanced to come from  the interior of the ruins to the water-front. It was,
therefore,  necessary for me  to seek  concealment until night  had fallen,
since only by night might I travel in safety across the sea bottom, and, as
the city offered the  only concealment nearby, I had no choice but to enter
it. I  can assure you that  it was not without  feelings of extreme concern
that I  clambered to the surface of the broad  avenue that once skirted the
shore of a busy harbor. Across its wide expanse rose the ruins of what once
had been  shops and warehouses,  but whose eyeless windows  now looked down
upon a  scene of and desolation. Gone were the  great ships! Gone the busy,
hurrying throngs! Gone the ocean!

Crossing the avenue I  entered one of the taller buildings, which I noticed
was surmounted by a  high tower. The entire structure, including the tower,
seemed to  be in an excellent  state of preservation and  it occurred to me
that  if I  could ascend  into the latter,  I should  be able to  obtain an
excellent view  of the  city and of the  country that lay beyond  it to the
southwest, which was the  direction in which I intended to pursue my search
for  Jahar I  reached  the building  apparently unobserved,  and, entering,
found myself in a  large chamber, the nature and purpose of which it was no
longer possible  to determine, since such  decorations as may possibly have
adorned  its walls  in  the past  were no  longer discernible  and whatever
furniture it  may have  contained to give  a clue to its  identity had long
since been  removed. There was an enormous fireplace in  the far end of the
room and  at one side of  this fireplace a ramp  led downward, and upon the
other a similar ramp led upward.

Listening intently for a  moment I heard no sound, either within or without
the building, so that it was with considerable confidence that I started to
ascend the ramp.

Upward I continued from floor to floor, each of which consisted of a single
large chamber, a fact which finally convinced me that the building had been
a warehouse  for the  storing of goods  passing through this  ancient port.

From the upper floor  a wooden ladder extended upward through the center of
the   tower  above.   It  was   of  solid   skeel,  which   is  practically
indestructible,  so that  though  I knew  it  might be  anywhere from  five
hundred thousand to a million years old, I did not hesitate to trust myself
to it.

The circular  interior core of  the tower, upward through  which the ladder
extended, was  rather dark. At each  landing there was an  opening into the
tower chamber at that point, but as many of these openings were closed only
a subdued light penetrated to the central core.

I had ascended to the second level of the tower when I thought that I heard
a strange noise beneath me.

Just the  suggestion of a noise it was, but  such utter silence had reigned
over the  deserted city that the faintest  sound must have been appreciable
to me.

Pausing in  my ascent, I looked down, listening; but  the sound which I had
been  unable to  translate  was not  repeated, and  I  continued my  way on
upward.

Having it  in my mind to  climb as high up in the  tower as possible, I did
not stop to examine any of the levels that I passed.

Continuing  upward  for a  considerable  distance my  progress was  finally
blocked by  heavy planking that appeared to form  the ceiling of the shaft.
Some eight or  ten feet below me was a small door  that probably led to one
of the upper levels  of the tower and I could not but wonder why the ladder
had been  continued on upward above  this doorway, since it  could serve no
practical purpose if it  merely ended at the ceiling. Feeling above me with
my  fingers I  traced  the outlines  of what  appeared to  be a  trap door.
Obtaining a  firm footing  upon the ladder as  high up as I  could climb, I
placed a shoulder against the barrier. In this position I was able to exert
considerable  pressure upward  with the  result that  presently I  felt the
planking rise above me  and a moment later, to the accompaniment of subdued
groans, the trap door  swung upward upon ancient wooden hinges long unused.
Clambering into  the apartment above I  found myself upon the  top level of
the tower, which rose to a height of some two hundred feet above the avenue
below. Before me were  the corroded remains of an ancient and long obsolete
beacon-light, such  as were used by the  ancients long before the discovery
of  radium and  its practical  and scientific  application to  the lighting
requirements of modern civilization  upon Barsoom. These ancient lamps were
operated by  expensive machines  which generated electricity,  and this one
was doubtless  used as a beacon  for the safe guidance  of ancient mariners
into the harbor, whose  waters once rolled almost to the foot of the tower.

This upper level of the tower afforded an excellent view in all directions.
To the  north and  northeast stretched a  vast expanse. To the  south was a
range of low hills that curved gently in a northeasterly direction, forming
in by-gone days the  southern shore line of what is still known as the Gulf
of Torquas.  Toward the west I  looked out over the  ruins of a great city,
which extended far back  into low hills, the flanks of which it had mounted
as  it expanded from  the sea shore.  There in  the distance I  could still
discern the  ancient villas of the wealthy,  while in the nearer foreground
were enormous  public buildings,  the most pretentious of  which were built
upon the  four sides  of a large  quadrangle that I could  easily discern a
short distance  from the  water-front. Here, doubtless,  stood the official
palace of the jeddak who once ruled the rich country of which this city was
the capital and the principal port. There, now, only silence reigns. It was
indeed a depressing sight  and one fraught with poignant prophecy for us of
present day Barsoom.

Where  they  battled  valiantly  but  futilely  against  the  menace  of  a
constantly diminishing  water supply, we are faced  with a problem that far
transcends theirs in the  importance of its bearing upon the maintenance of
life  upon our  planet.  During the  past several  thousand years  only the
courage, resourcefulness and wealth  of the red men of Barsoom have made it
possible for  life to exist upon our dying planet, for  were it not for the
great atmosphere plants conceived  and built and maintained by the red race
of Barsoom, all forms  of air breathing creatures would have become extinct
thousands of years ago.

As I gazed out  over the city, my mind occupied with these dismal thoughts,
I  again became  aware of  a sound  coming from  the interior of  the tower
beneath me,  and, stepping to the  open trap, I looked  down into the shaft
and there, directly below me, I saw that which might well make the stoutest
Barsoomian heart quail – the hideous, snarling face of a great white ape of
Barsoom.

As  our eyes  met the creature  voiced an  angry growl and,  abandoning its
former  stealthy  approach, rushed  swiftly  up the  ladder. Acting  almost
mechanically I did the  one and only thing that might even temporarily stay
its rush upon  me – I slammed down the heavy trap  door above its head, and
as I  did so  I saw for  the first time  that the door was  equipped with a
heavy wooden bar, and  you may well believe that I lost no time in securing
this, thus effectually barring the creature's ascent by this route into the
veritable cul de sac in which I had placed myself.

Now, indeed,  was I  in a pretty  predicament – two hundred  feet above the
city with my only avenue of escape cut off by one of the most feared of all
the savage beasts of Barsoom.

I had hunted these creatures in Thark as a guest of the great green Jeddak,
Tars Tarkas,  and I knew something of  their cunning and resourcefulness as
well as  of their  ferocity. Extremely man-like in  conformation, they also
approach man  more closely than any  other of the lower  orders in the size
and development  of their brain. Occasionally  these creatures are captured
when young  and trained to perform,  and so intelligent are  they that they
can be  taught to do almost  anything that man can  do that lies within the
range  of their limited  reasoning capacity.  Man has, however,  never been
able  to  subdue  their  ferocious nature  and  they  are  always the  most
dangerous  of animals  to handle,  which probably  accounts more  even than
their intelligence  for the interest displayed  by the large audiences that
they unfailingly attract.

In Hastor I have  paid a good price to see one of these creatures and now I
found myself in a  position where I should very gladly pay a good deal more
not to see one, but from the noise he was making in the shaft beneath me it
appeared to me that he was determined that I should have a free show and he
a free meal. He was hurling himself as best he could against the trap door,
above which I stood  with some misgivings which were presently allayed when
I  realized that  not even  the vast  strength of  a white ape  could avail
against  the   still  staunch  and  sturdy   skeel  of  the  ancient  door.

Finally convinced that he  could not come at me by this avenue, I set about
taking stock  of my  situation. Circling the  tower I examined  its outward
architecture by  the simple expedient of leaning  far outward above each of
the  four sides.  Three  sides terminated  at the  roof  of the  building a
hundred and fifty feet  below me, while the fourth extended to the pavement
of the  courtyard two hundred feet below. Like  much of the architecture of
ancient Barsoom,  the surface of the tower  was elaborately carved from top
to bottom  and at  each level there  were window embrasures,  some of which
were equipped with small  stone balconies. As a rule there was but a single
window to  a level, and as the window for  the level directly beneath never
opened upon  the same side of the tower as the  window for the level above,
there was  always a distance of  from thirty to forty  feet between windows
upon the same side, and, as I was examining the outside of the tower with a
view  to its  offering  me an  avenue of  escape, this  point was  of great
importance to me, since a series of window ledges, one below another, would
have   proved  a   most   welcome  sight   to   a  man   in  my   position.

By the time I  had completed my survey of the exterior of the tower the ape
had evidently come to the conclusion that he could not demolish the barrier
that kept  him from me and I hoped that he  would abandon the idea entirely
and depart. But when I lay down on the floor and placed an ear close to the
door I  could plainly hear him  just below as he  occasionally changed from
one uncomfortable  position to another upon the  small ladder beneath me. I
did  not  know  to   what  extent  these  creatures  might  have  developed
pertinacity of  purpose, but I hoped  that he might soon  tire of his vigil
and his  thoughts be diverted into some other  channel. However, as the day
wore to a close  this possibility seemed to grow more and more remote until
at last  I became almost convinced that the  creature had determined to lay
siege   until   hunger  or   desperation   forced  me   from  my   retreat.

How longingly  I gazed at the beckoning hills beyond  the city where lay my
route toward the southwest – toward fabled Jahar.

The sun  was low  in the west.  Soon would come the  sudden transition from
daylight to darkness, and then what? Perhaps the creature would abandon its
vigil; hunger or thirst  might attract it elsewhere, but how was I to know?
How easily it might  descend to the bottom of the tower and await me there,
confident that sooner or later I must come down.

One unfamiliar with the  traits of these savage creatures might wonder why,
armed as  I was with  sword and pistol, I  did not raise the  trap door and
give battle to my jailer. Had I known positively that he was the only white
ape in  the vicinity I should  not have hesitated to  do so, but experience
assured me that there was doubtless an entire herd of them quartered in the
ruined city.  So scarce is the  flesh they crave that  it is their ordinary
custom to hunt  alone, so that in the event that they  make a kill they may
be  more certain  of retaining the  prize for  themselves, but if  I should
attack  him he  would most  certainly raise  such a  row as to  attract his
fellows, in which event my chance for escape would have been reduced to the
ultimate zero.

A single shot from  my pistol might have dispatched him, but it was equally
possible  that it  would not,  for these  great white  apes of  Barsoom are
tremendous creatures,  endowed with  almost unbelievable vitality.  Many of
them  stand fully  fifteen feet in  height and  are endowed by  nature with
tremendous  strength. Their  very appearance  is demoralizing to  an enemy;
their white,  hairless bodies are in  themselves repulsive to the  eye of a
red man;  the great  shock of white  hair bristling erect  upon their pates
accentuates the  brutality of their countenances,  while their intermediary
set of  limbs, which they use  either as arms or  legs as necessity or whim
suggests,  render them  most formidable  antagonists. Quite  generally they
carry  a club, in  the use of  which they  are terribly proficient.  One of
them, therefore,  seemed sufficiently a menace in itself,  so that I had no
desire  to  attract others  of  its kind,  though  I was  fully aware  that
eventually I might be forced to carry the battle to him.

Just  as  the  sun  was  setting  my  attention was  attracted  toward  the
water-front  where the  long shadows  of the  city were stretching  far out
across the dead sea  bottom. Riding up the gentle acclivity toward the city
was  a party  of green  warriors, mounted  upon their great  savage thoats.
There were perhaps twenty  of them, moving silently over the soft moss that
carpeted the bottom of  the ancient harbor, the padded feet of their mounts
giving  forth no  sound. Like specters,  they moved  in the shadows  of the
dying  day,  giving  me further  proof  that  Fate had  led  me  to a  most
unfriendly shore,  and then, as though to  complete the trilogy of fearsome
Barsoomian menaces, the roar of a banth rolled down out of the hills behind
the city.

Safe from observation in  the high tower above them, I watched the party as
it emerged from the hollow of the harbor and rode out upon the avenue below
me, and then  for the first time I noted a small  figure seated in front of
one of the warriors. Darkness was coming swiftly now, but before the little
cavalcade  passed  out  of  sight  momentarily  behind the  corner  of  the
building,  as it  entered another  avenue leading  toward the heart  of the
city, I  thought that I recognized the little figure as  that of a woman of
my own  race. That she was a captive was a  foregone conclusion and I could
not  but shudder  as I  contemplated the  fate that  lay in store  for her.
Perhaps my  own Sanoma Tora was  in equal jeopardy. Perhaps  – but no, that
could not be possible – how could Sanoma Tora have fallen into the clutches
of warriors of the fierce horde of Torquas?

It could  not be she. No,  that was impossible. But  the fact remained that
the captive  was a red woman, and whether she  were Sanoma Tora or another,
whether she were from Helium or Jahar, my heart went out in sympathy to her
and I  forgot my own predicament as something within  me urged me to pursue
her captors and seek  to snatch her from them; but, alas, how futile seemed
my  fancy. How  might I,  who might  not even  save himself, aspire  to the
rescue of another?

The thought galled me, it hurt my pride, and forthwith I determined that if
I would not  chance dying to save myself, I might at  least chance it for a
woman of  my own race,  and always in the  back of my head  was the thought
that  perhaps the  object of my  solicitude might,  indeed, be the  woman I
loved.

Darkness had  fallen as  I pressed my ear  again to the trap  door. All was
silent  below so  that  presently I  became assured  that the  creature had
departed. Perhaps  he was  lying in wait  for me further down,  but what of
that? I  must face  him eventually if  he elected to remain.  I loosened my
pistol  in its  holster and  was upon  the point  of slipping the  bar that
secured the  door when  I distinctly heard  the beast directly  beneath me.

For an instant I  paused. What was the use? It meant certain death to raise
that door,  and in what way might I be profiting  either myself or the poor
captive if  I gave my life  thus uselessly? But there  was an alternative –
one that I had  been planning to adopt in case of necessity from the moment
that  I had  first  examined the  exterior  construction of  the tower.  It
offered  a slender  chance of escape  from my  predicament and even  a very
slender chance  was better than what  would confront me should  I raise the
trap door.

I stepped to one of the windows of the tower and looked down upon the city.
Neither moon  was in the sky;  I could see nothing.  Toward the interior of
the city I heard the squealing of thoats. There would the camp of the green
men be  located. Thus by the  squealing of their vicious  mounts would I be
guided to  it. Again  a hunting banth roared  in the hills. I  sat upon the
sill  and swung  both  legs across  and then  turning  on my  belly slipped
silently  over the  edge until  I hung  only by  my hands. Groping  with my
sandaled  toes, I  felt for a  foothold upon  the deep-cut carvings  of the
tower's face.  Above me was a  blue-black void shot with  stars; below me a
blank  and empty void.  It might have  been a  thousand sofads to  the roof
below me, or it  might have been one; but though I could see nothing I knew
that it  was one hundred  and fifty and that  at the bottom lay  death if a
foot or a hand slipped.

In  daylight the  sculpturing had seemed  large and  deep and bold,  but by
night  how different!  My toes  seemed to  find but  hollow scratches  in a
smooth surface  of polished stone. My arms and  fingers were tiring. I must
find a  foothold or  fall, and then, when  hope seemed gone, the  toe of my
right sandal slipped into  a horizontal groove and an instant later my left
found a hold.

Flattened against the sheer  wall of the tower I lay there resting my tired
fingers  and arms  for a  moment and when  I felt  that they would  bear my
weight  again  I  sought   for  hand  holds.  Thus  painfully,  perilously,
monotonously,  I  descended inch  by  inch.  I avoided  the windows,  which
naturally greatly increased the  difficulty and danger of my descent; yet I
did not care to  pass directly in front of them for fear that by chance the
ape might  have descended from the  summit of the ladder  and would see me.

I cannot  recall that  ever in my  life I felt  more alone than  I did that
night as  I was descending  the ancient beacon-tower of  that deserted city
for not  even hope was with me. So precarious were  my holds upon the rough
stone that  my fingers were soon numb and exhausted.  How they clung at all
to those  shallow cuts,  I do not  know. The only redeeming  feature of the
descent was the darkness,  and a hundred times I blessed my first ancestors
that  I could  not see  the dizzy depths  below me;  but on the  other hand

it was  so dark that I  could not tell how  far I had descended;  nor did I
dare to  look up where the  summit of the tower  must have been silhouetted
against the starlit sky  for fear that in doing so I should lose my balance
and be precipitated to  the courtyard or the roof below. The air of Barsoom
is  thin; it  does not  greatly diffuse  the starlight,  and so,  while the
heavens above were shot  with brilliant points of light, the ground beneath
was obliterated in darkness.

Yet  I must have  been nearer the  roof than  I thought when  that happened
which I had been assiduously endeavoring to prevent the scabbard of my long
sword pattered  noisily against the face of the  tower. In the darkness and
the silence  it seemed a  veritable din, but, however  exaggerated it might
appear to me, I  knew that it was sufficient to reach the ears of the great
ape in the tower.  Whether a suggestion of its import would occur to him, I
could not guess – I could only hope that he would be too dull to connect it
with me or my escape.

But I was not  to be left long in doubt, for almost immediately afterward a
sound came  from the interior of the tower  that sounded to my over-wrought
nerves like  a heavy body rapidly  descending a ladder. I  realize now that
imagination might  easily have  construed utter silence into  such a sound,
since I  had been listening so  intensely for that very  thing that I might
easily have  worked myself into  such a state of  nervous apprehension that
almost any sort of an hallucination was possible.

With redoubled  speed and  with a measure  of recklessness that  was almost
suicidal, I hastened my  descent and an instant later I felt the solid roof
beneath my feet.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was destined to be but a short sigh and
but brief relief, for almost instantly I was made aware that the sound from
the interior  of the tower had been no hallucination as  the huge bulk of a
great white  ape loomed suddenly from a doorway not  a dozen paces from me.

As he  charged me  he gave forth  no sound. Evidently  he had  not held his
solitary  vigil this  long  with any  intention of  sharing his  feast with
another. He  would dispatch me in silence, and,  with similar intent I drew
my  long  sword,  rather  than  my  pistol,  to  meet  his  savage  charge.

What a  puny, futile thing  I must have appeared  confronting that towering
mountain of bestial ferocity.

Thanks be to a thousand fighting ancestors that I wielded a long sword with
swiftness and with strength;  otherwise I must have been gathered into that
savage  embrace  in the  brute's  first  charge. Four  powerful hands  were
reached out to  seize me, but I swung my long sword  in a terrific cut that
severed one  of them cleanly at the wrist and at  the same instant I leaped
quickly to one side, and as the beast rushed past me, carried onward by its
momentum, I  ran my blade deep into its body. With  a savage scream of rage
and  pain it  sought to  turn upon me,  but its  foot slipped upon  its own
dismembered  hand  and  it  stumbled  awkwardly  on trying  to  regain  its
equilibrium,  but   that  it   never  accomplished,  and   still  stumbling
grotesquely it  lunged over  the edge of  the roof to  the courtyard below.

Fearing that  the beast's  scream might attract  others of its  kind to the
roof, I  ran swiftly  to the north edge  of the building where  I had noted
from  the  tower earlier  in  the  afternoon a  series  of lower  buildings
adjoining, over  the roofs of which I  might possibly accomplish my descent
to the street level.

Cold Cluros  was rising above the distant  horizon, shedding his pale light
upon the city so  that I could plainly see the roofs below  me as I came to
the north edge  of the building. It was a long drop,  but there was no safe
alternative, since  it was quite probable that  should I attempt to descend
through the building, I  would meet other members of the ape's herd who had
been attracted by the scream of their fellow.

Slipping over the  edge of the roof I hung an instant  by my hands and then
dropped. The distance was  about two ads, but I alighted safely and without
injury. Upon  your own planet, with its larger  bulk and greater gravity, I
presume  that  a fall  of  that  distance might  be  serious,  but not  so,
necessarily, upon Barsoom.

From this roof I  had a short drop to the next, and from that I leaped to a
low wall and thence to the ground below.

Had it  not been  for the fleeting glimpse  of the girl captive  that I had
caught just at sunset, I should have set out directly for the hills west of
the town,  banth or  no banth, but  now I felt  strongly upon  me a certain
moral obligation  to make the best  efforts that I could  for succoring the
poor unfortunate  that had  fallen into the  clutches of these  cruelest of
creatures.

Keeping well within the  shadows of the buildings I moved stealthily toward
the  central  plaza of  the  city, from  which  direction I  had heard  the
squealing of the thoats.

The plaza was a full haad from the water-front and I was compelled to cross
several intersecting avenues as  I cautiously made my way toward it, guided
by an  occasional squeal from the thoats  quartered in some deserted palace
courtyard.

I  reached the  plaza in safety,  confident that  I had not  been observed.

Upon the  opposite side I saw light within one  of the great buildings that
faced it,  but I  dared not cross  the open space  in the  moonlight and so
still  clinging to the  shadows I moved  to the  far end of  the quadrangle
where  Cluros cast  his  densest shadows,  and thus  at last  I won  to the
building in  which the green men  were quartered. Directly before  me was a
low window that must have opened into a room adjoining the one in which the
warriors were  congregated. Listening  intently I heard  nothing within the
chamber and  slipping a leg over the sill I  entered the dark interior with
the utmost stealth.

Tiptoeing across  the room to find  a door through which  I might look into
the adjoining  chamber, I was suddenly  arrested as my foot  touched a soft
body and  I froze  into rigidity, my hand  upon my long sword,  as the body
moved.

Four

                                   TAVIA

THERE ARE  OCCASIONS IN THE LIFE OF EVERY MAN  when he becomes impressed by
the evidence of the existence of an extraneous power which guides his acts,
which  is  sometimes described  as  the  hand of  providence,  or is  again
explained on  the hypothesis of a sixth sense  which transports to the part
of our  brain that  controls our actions,  perceptions of which  we are not
objectively aware; but, account for it as one may, the fact remains that as
I stood  there that night in the dark chamber of  the ancient palace of the
deserted city  I hesitated to thrust my sword into  the soft body moving at
my feet.  This might  after all have  been the most  reasonable and logical
course for  me to pursue. Instead  I pressed my sword  point firmly against
yielding flesh and whispered a single word: "Silence!"

A thousand times since  then have I given thanks to my first ancestors that
I did  not follow my natural  impulse, for, in response  to my admonition a
voice  whispered: "Do  not thrust,  red man; I  am of  your own race  and a
prisoner," and the voice was that of a girl.

Instantly I withdrew my  blade and kneeled beside her. "If you have come to
help me,  cut my bonds," she said, "and be quick  for they will soon return
for me."

Feeling  rapidly over  her body  I found  that her  wrists and  ankles were
secured with leather thongs  and drawing my dagger I quickly severed these.
"Are you alone?" I asked as I helped her to her feet.

"Yes," she replied. "In  the next room they are playing for me to decide to
which one I shall belong." At that moment there came the clank of side arms
from the  adjoining room. "They are coming," she  said. "They must not find
us here."

Taking her  by the hand I  moved to the window  through which I had entered
the apartment, but fortunately I reconnoitered before stepping out into the
avenue and it was  well for us that I did so, for  as I looked to the right
along the face of the building, I saw a green Martian warrior emerging from
the main entrance. Evidently it had been the rattling of his side arms that
we had  heard as  he moved across  the adjoining apartment  to the doorway.

"Is  there  another  exit  from this  room?"  I  asked  in  a low  whisper.

"Yes," she replied. "Opposite this window there is a doorway leading into a
corridor.  It  was open  when  they brought  me  in, but  they closed  it."

"We shall be better off inside the building than out for a while at least,"
I said.  "Come!" And together  we crossed the apartment,  groping along the
wall for  the door  which I soon  located. With the  utmost care  I drew it
ajar, fearing that its ancient hinges might betray us by their complaining.
Beyond the doorway lay a corridor dark as the depths of Omean and into this
I drew  the girl, closing the  door silently behind us.  Groping our way to
the right away from  the apartment occupied by the green warriors, we moved
slowly  through a  black void  until presently  we saw  just ahead  a faint
light, which  investigation revealed as coming  through the open doorway of
an apartment  that faced upon the  central courtyard of the  edifice. I was
about  to pass  this doorway  and seek  a hiding  place further  within the
remote  interior of  the building  when my  attention was attracted  by the
squealing of a thoat in the courtyard beyond the apartment we were passing.

From earliest boyhood I  have had a great deal of experience with the small
breed of  thoats used as saddle  animals by the men of  my race and while I
was visiting Tars Tarkas  of Thark I became quite familiar with the methods
employed by  the green  men in controlling  their own huge  vicious beasts.

For  travel over  the surface  of the  ground the  thoat compares  to other
methods of land transportation as the one-man scout flier does to all other
ships of  the air in aerial navigation. He is at  once the swiftest and the
most  dangerous,  so  that,   faced  as  I  was  with  a  problem  of  land
transportation, it  was only natural that the  squeal of the thoats, should
suggest a plan to my mind.

"Why do you hesitate?"  asked the girl. "We cannot escape in that direction
since we cannot cross the courtyard."

"On the contrary," I replied, "I believe that in this direction may lie our
surest avenue of escape."

"But  their thoats  are penned  in the  courtyard," she  remonstrated, "and
green warriors are never far from their thoats."

"It  is  because the  thoats  are  there that  I  wish  to investigate  the
courtyard," I replied.

"The moment they catch our scent," she said, "they will raise a disturbance
that will  attract the attention of their  masters and we shall immediately
be discovered and captured."

"Perhaps," I said; "but if my plan succeeds it will be well worth the risk,
but if you are very much afraid I will abandon it."

"No,"  she said,  "it is  not for  me to  choose or  direct. You  have been
generous enough to  help me and I may only follow where  you lead, but if I
knew   your   plan   perhaps    I   might   follow   more   intelligently."

"Certainly," I  said; "it is very  simple. There are thoats.  We shall take
one of  them and  ride away. It  will be much  easier than  walking and our
chances for escape will  be considerably greater, at the same time we shall
leave the courtyard gates open, hoping that the other thoats will follow us
out, leaving their masters unable to pursue us."

"It  is  a mad  plan,"  said the  girl,  "but is  a  brave one.  If we  are
discovered, there  will be  fighting and I  am unarmed. Give  me your short
sword, warrior,  that we  may at least  make the best  account of ourselves
that is possible."

I unsnapped the scabbard  of my short sword from my harness and attached it
to hers  at her left hip,  and, as I touched her body  in doing so, I could
not but  note that there was no sign of trembling  such as there would have
been had  she been affected  by fright or excitement.  She seemed perfectly
cool and collected and  her tone of voice was almost reassuring to me. That
she  was not  Sanoma Tora  I had  known when  she had  first spoken  in the
darkness of the room in which I had stumbled upon her, and while I had been
keenly disappointed  I was still determined to do the  best that I could to
assist in  the escape  of the stranger,  although I was  confident that her
presence might greatly delay  and embarrass me while it subjected me to far
greater danger  than would  have fallen to  the lot of  a warrior traveling
alone.  It was, therefore  reassuring to  find that my  unwelcome companion
would not prove entirely helpless.

"I trust  you will  not have to  use it," I  said as I  finished hooking my
short sword to her harness.

"You  will  find," she  said,  "that if  necessity  arises I  can use  it."

"Good," I said. "Now follow me and keep close to me."

A  careful  survey  of  the  courtyard  from  the  window  of  the  chamber
overlooking it  revealed about  twenty huge thoats, but  no green warriors,
evidence    that   they    felt    perfectly   secure    against   enemies.

The thoats were congregated  in the far end of the courtyard; a few of them
had lain  down for the night, but the  balance were moving restlessly about
as is their habit. Across the courtyard from us and at the same end stood a
pair of  massive gates.  As far as  I could determine they  barred the only
opening into the courtyard large enough to admit a thoat and I assumed that
beyond  them   lay  an  alley  leading  to   one  of  the  avenues  nearby.

To reach the gates  unobserved by the thoats, was the first step in my plan
and the better to  do this I decided to seek an apartment near the gate, on
either  side of  which I  saw windows  similar to  that from which  we were
looking. Therefore, motioning my  companion to follow me, I returned to the
corridor and  again groping through the darkness we  made our way along it.
In the  third apartment which I explored I found  a window letting into the
courtyard close beside the  gate. And in the wall which ran at right angles
to that  in which the window  was set I found a  doorway that opened into a
large vaulted  corridor upon the opposite side  of the gate. This discovery
greatly encouraged me since  it harmonized perfectly with the plan I had in
mind, at the same time reducing the risk which my companion must run in the
attempted adventure of escape.

"Remain here," I said to her, placing her just behind the gate. "If my plan
is successful I shall ride into this corridor upon one of the thoats and as
I do  so you must be  ready to seize my  hand and mount behind  me. If I am
discovered and  fail I  shall cry out  'For Helium!' and that  must be your
signal to escape as best you may.

She laid her hand upon my arm. "Let me go into the courtyard with you," she
begged. "Two swords are better than one."

"No," I said. "Alone  I have a better chance of handling the thoats than if
their attention is distracted by another."

"Very  well," she  said,  and with  that I  left  her, and  re-entering the
chamber,  went directly  to the  window. For  a moment I  reconnoitered the
interior  of  the courtyard  and  finding conditions  unchanged, I  slipped
stealthily through the window  and edged slowly toward the gate. Cautiously
I  examined the  latch and discovering  it easy  to manipulate, I  was soon
silently pushing one of  the gates back upon its hinges. When it was opened
sufficiently wide  to permit the passage of a  thoat, I turned my attention
to  the  beasts within  the  enclosure. Practically  untamed, these  savage
creatures  are  as wild  as  their  uncaptured fellows  of  the remote  sea
bottoms,  and,  being  controlled  solely  by telepathic  means,  they  are
amenable only to the suggestion of the more powerful minds of their masters
and   even   so  it   requires   considerable  skill   to  dominate   them.

I  had learned  the method  from Tar  Tarkas himself  and had come  to feel
considerable proficiency so that I approached this crucial test of my power
with   the   confidence  that   was   absolutely   requisite  to   success.

Placing myself  close beside the  gate, I concentrated every  faculty of my
mind to  the direction  of my will,  telepathically, upon the  brain of the
thoat I had selected  for my purpose, the selection being determined solely
by  the fact  that he  stood nearest  to me.  The effect  of my  effort was
immediately  apparent.  The  creature, which  had  been  searching for  the
occasional  tufts  of  moss  that  grew  between  the stone  flags  of  the
courtyard,  raised  his  head  and looked  about  him.  At  once he  became
restless, but  he gave forth no  sound since I was  willing him to silence.
Presently his eyes moved  in my direction and halted upon me. Then, slowly,
I drew him toward  me. It was slow work, for he evidently sensed that I was
not his master, but on he came. Once, when he was quite near me, he stopped
and snorted angrily. He  must have caught my scent then and realized that I
was not even  of the same race as that to which  he was accustomed. Then it
was that I exerted to their fullest extent every power of my mind. He stood
there shaking his ugly  head to and fro, his snarling lips baring his great
fangs. Beyond him I  could see that the other thoats, had been attracted by
his  actions. They  were  looking toward  us and  moving  about restlessly,
always drawing  closer. Should they discover me  and start to squeal, which
is the  first and always ready  sign of their easily  aroused anger, I knew
that I  should have their riders  upon me in no  time, since because of his
nervous and irritable nature the thoat is the watchdog as well as the beast
of burden of the green Barsoomians.

For  a  moment the  beast  I had  selected  hesitated before  me as  though
undecided whether  to retreat or to charge, but  he did neither; instead he
came slowly  up to  me and as  I backed through  the gate  into the vaulted
corridor beyond, he followed me. This was better than I had expected for it
permitted me to compel him to lie down, so that the girl and I were able to
mount with ease.

Before  us lay  a long  vaulted corridor at  the far  end of which  I could
discern a  moonlit archway, through which we  presently passed onto a broad
avenue.

To the left lay  the bills, and, turning this way, I urged the fleet animal
along  the  ancient deserted  thoroughfare  between rows  of stately  ruins
toward the west and – what?

Where the avenue turned  to wind upward into the hills, I glanced back; nor
could I  refrain a feeling of  exultation as I saw  strung out behind us in
the moonlight a file of great thoats, which I was confident would well know
what to do with their new found liberty.

"Your captors  will not pursue us far," I said  to the girl, indicating the
thoats with a nod of my head.

"Our ancestors  are with us tonight," she said. "Let  us pray that they may
never desert us."

Now, for the first time, I had a fairly good look at my companion, for both
Cluros and Thuria were in the heavens and it was quite light. If I revealed
my surprise  it is not to be wondered at for,  in the darkness, having only
my companion's voice for a guide, I had been perfectly confident that I had
given aid  to a female, but  now as I looked at  that short hair and boyish
face I  did not know what  to think; nor did  the harness that my companion
wore aid me in justifying my first conclusion, since it was quite evidently
the harness of a man.

"I thought you were a girl," I blurted out.

A fine mouth spread into a smile that revealed strong, white teeth. "I am,"
she said.

"But  your hair  –  your harness  – even  your  figure belies  your claim."

She  laughed gayly.  That, I  was to  find later,  was one of  her chiefest
charms  –   that  she   could  laugh  so   easily,  yet  never   to  wound.

"My voice betrayed me," she said. "It is too bad."

"Why is it too bad?" I asked.

"Because you  would have  felt better with  a fighting man  as a companion,
whereas now you feel that you have only a burden."

"A  light one," I  replied, recalling how  easily I  had lifted her  to the
thoat's back.  "But tell me who  you are and why  you are masquerading as a
boy."

"I am a slave girl," she said; "just a slave girl who has run away from her
master. Perhaps  that will  make a difference,"  she added a  little sadly.
"Perhaps  you will  be sorry  that you  have defended  just a  slave girl."

"No," I  said, "that makes no difference. I myself,  am only a poor padwar,
not rich enough to afford a slave. Perhaps you are the one to be sorry that
you were not rescued by a rich man."

She laughed. "I ran  away from the richest man in the world," she said. "At
least I guess he must have been the richest man in the world, for who could
be richer than Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar?"

"You belong to Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar?" I exclaimed.

"Yes," she  said. I  was stolen when  I was very  young from  a city called
Tjanath and ever since I have lived in the palace of Tul Axtar. He has many
women  – thousands  of them.  Sometimes they  live all  their lives  in his
palace and never see him. I have seen him," she shuddered; "he is terrible.
I was  not unhappy there for  I had never known my  mother; she died when I
was young, and my father was only a memory. You see I was very, very young,
indeed, when the emissaries  of Tul Axtar stole me from my home in Tjanath.
I made friends with  everyone about the palace of Tul Axtar. They all liked
me, the  slaves and the warriors  and the chiefs, and  because I was always
boyish it amused  them to train me in the use of  arms and even to navigate
the smaller fliers; but then came a day when my happiness was ended forever
– Tul  Axtar saw me. He  saw me and he sent for me.  I pretended that I was
ill and did not go, and when night came I went to the quarters of a soldier
whom I knew to be on guard and stole harness and I cut off my long hair and
painted my face that  I might look more like a man, and  then I went to the
hangars  on the palace  roof and by  a ruse  deceived the guards  there and
stole a one-man flier.

"I thought," she continued, "that if they searched for me at all they would
search in the direction of Tjanath and so I flew in the opposite direction,
toward  the northeast,  intending  to make  a  great circle  to the  north,
turning back  toward Tjanath.  After I passed  over Xanator I  discovered a
large  grove  of mantalia  growing  out  upon the  dead  sea  bottom and  I
immediately descended  to obtain some of  the milk from these  plants, as I
had left the palace so hurriedly that I had no opportunity to supply myself
with provisions.  The mantalia grove was an unusually  large one and as the
plants grew  to a height of from eight to  twelve sofads, the grove offered
excellent  protection from observation.  I had  no difficulty in  finding a
landing place well within  its confines. In order to prevent detection from
above, I  ran my plane in among the  concealing foliage of two over-arching
mantalias and then set about obtaining a supply of milk.

"As  near objects  never  appear as  attractive  as those  more distant,  I
wandered some little distance  from my flier before I found the plants that
seemed   to   offer   a  sufficiently   copious   supply   of  rich   milk.

"A band of green  warriors had also entered the grove to procure milk, and,
as I was  tapping the tree I had selected, one of  them discovered me and a
moment later  I was  captured. From their  questions I became  assured that
they had  not seen  me enter the  grove and that  they knew  nothing of the
presence of  my flier. They must  have been in a  portion of the grove very
thickly overhung by foliage while I was approaching from above by making my
landing; but  be that as it  may, they were ignorant  of the presence of my
flier and I determined to keep them in ignorance of it.

"When  they had  obtained as much  milk as  they required they  returned to
Xanator, bringing me with them. The rest you know."

"This is Xanator?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"And what is your name?" I asked.

"Tavia," she replied. "And what is yours?"

"Tan Hadron of Hastor," I replied.

"It is  a nice name," she said. There was  a certain boyish frankness about
the way  she said  it that convinced  me that she  would have  been just as
quick to  tell me  had she not  liked my name.  There was  no suggestion of
brainless  flattery in  her tone  and I  was to  learn, as I  became better
acquainted  with  her, that  honesty  and  candor were  two  of her  marked
characteristics, but at the moment I was giving such matters little thought
since  my  mind was  occupied  with a  portion  of her  narrative that  had
suggested to  me an easy and  swift method of escape  from our predicament.

"Do you believe," I  asked, "that you can find the mantalia grove where you
hid your flier?"

"I am positive of it," she replied.

"Will the craft carry two?" I asked.

"It is a one-man flier," she replied, "but it will carry both of us, though
both its speed and altitude will be reduced."

She told me that  the grove lay to the southeast of Xanator and accordingly
I turned the thoat's  head toward the east. After we had passed well beyond
the limits  of the city we  moved in a southerly  direction down out of the
hills onto the dead sea bottom.

Thuria was  winging her  swift flight through the  heavens, casting strange
and ever moving shadows  upon the ocher moss that covered the ground, while
far above  cold Cluros took his slow and stately way.  The light of the two
moons clearly illuminated the landscape and I was sure that keen eyes could
easily have  detected us  from the ruins  of Xanator, although  the swiftly
moving shadows cast by Thuria were helpful to us since the shadows of every
shrub and stunted tree  produced a riot of movement upon the surface of the
sea bottom  in which  our own moving  shadow was less  conspicuous, but the
hope  that  I entertained  most  fondly was  that  all of  the thoats,  had
followed our  beast from the courtyard and  that the green Martian warriors
were  left  dismounted,  in  which  event  no pursuit  could  overtake  us.

The great beast that  was carrying us moved swiftly and silently so that it
was  not long  before we  saw in  the distance  the shadowy foliage  of the
mantalia grove and shortly afterward we entered its gloomy confines. It was
not  without  considerable difficulty,  however,  that  we located  Tavia's
flier, and  mighty glad was I, too, when we found  it in good condition for
we had seen more than a single shadowy form slinking through the forest and
I knew that the fierce animals of the barren hills and the great white apes
of the ruined cities were equally fond of the milk of the mantalia and that
we   should   be   fortunate,  indeed,   if   we   escaped  an   encounter.

I rode as close  to the flier as possible, and, leaving Tavia on the thoat,
slipped  quickly to  the ground and  dragged the  small craft out  into the
open. An examination of the controls showed that they had not been tampered
with, which was  a great relief to me as I had  feared that the flier might
have  been  damaged by  the  great  apes, which  are  inclined  to be  both
inquisitive and destructive.

Assured  that all was  well I assisted  Tavia to  the ground, and  a moment
later  we   were  upon  the   deck  of  the  flier.   The  craft  responded
satisfactorily,  though   a  little   sluggishly,  to  the   controls,  and
immediately we  were floating gently upward into  the temporary safety of a
Barsoomian night.

The flier,  which was  of a design  now almost obsolete in  Helium, was not
equipped with  a destination  control compass, which  rendered it necessary
for the pilot to  be constantly at the controls. Our quarters on the narrow
deck were  exceedingly cramped  and I foresaw a  most uncomfortable journey
ahead of us. Our  safety belts were snapped to the same deck ring as we lay
almost touching  one another upon the hard  skeel. The cowl which protected
our  faces  from the  rush  of  the wind  that  was generated  even by  our
relatively slow speed was  not sufficiently high to permit us to change our
positions  to any considerable  degree, though  occasionally we found  it a
relief to sit up  with our backs toward the bow and thus relieve the tedium
of  remaining constantly  prone  in one  position.  When I  thus rested  my
cramped  muscles,  Tavia  guided  the  flier,  but  the cold  wind  of  the
Barsoomian  night always  brought me  down behind  the cowl  in a  very few
moments.

By mutual  consent, we were heading in  a south-westerly direction while we
discussed our eventual destination.

I had  told Tavia that I  wished to go to Jahar  and why. She appeared much
interested  in the  story of the  abduction of  Sanoma Tora, and,  from her
knowledge  of Tul  Axtar  and the  customs of  Jahar,  she thought  it most
probable  that  the missing  girl  might  be found  there,  but  as to  the
possibility of  rescuing her, that was another  matter over which she shook
her head dubiously.

It was obvious to  me that Tavia did not desire to return to Jahar, yet she
put no  obstacles in the path of my search for  this my great objective; in
fact, she  gave me Jahar's position  and herself set the  nose of the flier
upon the right course.

"Will there be any great danger to you in returning to Jahar?" I asked her.

"The danger will be  very great," she said, "but where the master goes, the
slave must follow."

"I am not your  master," I said, "and you are not my slave. Let us consider
ourselves rather as comrades in arms."

"That will be nice," she said simply, and then after a pause, and if we are
to be  comrades then let me warn you against  going directly to Jahar. This
flier would  be recognized immediately.  Your harness would mark  you as an
alien  and you would  accomplish nothing  more toward rescuing  your Sanoma
Tora than to achieve the pits of Tul Axtar and sooner or later the games in
the great arena, where eventually you must be slain."

"What would you suggest then?" I asked.

"Beyond Jahar, to the southwest, lies Tjanath, the city of my birth. Of all
the  cities upon  Barsoom  that is  the only  one  where I  may hope  to be
received in a friendly  manner and as they receive me, so will they receive
you.  There you  may  better prepare  to enter  Jahar,  which you  may only
accomplish by  disguising yourself as a Jaharian,  for Tul Axtar permits no
alien within the confines of his empire other than those who are brought as
prisoners of  war and as slaves. In Tjanath you  can obtain the harness and
metal of Jahar and  there I can coach you in the customs and manners of the
empire of  Tul Axtar  so that in  a short time  you may enter  it with some
reasonably slight assurance that  you may deceive them as to your identity.
To enter without proper preparation would be fatal."

I saw the wisdom of her counsel and accordingly we altered our course so as
to pass south of  Jahar, as we headed straight toward Tjanath, six thousand
haads away.

All the balance of  the night we traveled steadily at the rate of about six
hundred haads  per zode – a slow speed when compared  with that of the good
one-man flier that I had brought out of Helium.

As the sun rose  the first thing that attracted my particular attention was
the ghastly blue of the flier.

"What a color for a flier!" I exclaimed.

Tavia looked  up at me. "There is an excellent  reason for it, though," she
said; "a  reason that  you must fully  understand before you  enter Jahar."

Five

                                TO THE PITS

BELOW US, in the  ever changing light of the two moons, stretched the weird
landscape of Barsoomian night as our little craft sorely overloaded, winged
slowly away  from Xanator  above the low  bills that mark  the southwestern
boundary of the fierce, green hordes of Torquas. With the coming of the new
day we  discussed the  advisability of making  a landing and  waiting until
night before proceeding upon  our journey, since we realized that should we
be  sighted  by an  enemy  craft  we could  not  possibly  hope to  escape.

"Few fliers  pass this way," said Tavia, "and if we  keep a sharp lookout I
believe that we  shall be as safe in the air as  on the ground for although
we have  passed beyond the limits  of Torquas, there would  still be danger
from their raiding parties, which often go far afield."

And so we proceeded slowly in the direction of Tjanath, our eyes constantly
scanning the heavens in all directions.

The monotony  of the  landscape, combined with  our slow rate  of progress,
would ordinarily have rendered  such a journey unendurable to me, but to my
surprise the  time passed quickly, a fact which  I attributed solely to the
wit and  intelligence of my companion for there  was no gainsaying the fact
that Tavia  was excellent company. I  think that we must  have talked about
everything  upon Barsoom  and naturally  a great  deal of  the conversation
revolved about  our own experiences and  personalities, so that long before
we reached  Tjanath I felt that  I knew Tavia better  than I had ever known
any  other  woman  and I  was  quite  sure that  I  had  never confided  so
completely in any other person.

Tavia had  a way with her that seemed to compel  confidences so that, to my
own surprise,  I found  myself discussing the  most intimate details  of my
past life,  my hopes, ambitions and  aspirations, as well as  the fears and
doubts   which,  I   presume,   assail  the   minds  of   all   young  men.

When I realized how fully I had unbosomed myself to this little slave girl,
I  experienced a  distinct  shock of  embarrassment, but  the  sincerity of
Tavia's interest dispelled this feeling as did the realization that she had
been   almost   as  equally   free   with   her  confidences   as  had   I.

We  were two  nights and a  day covering  the distance between  Xanator and
Tjanath and  as the towers  and landing stages of  our destination appeared
upon the  distant horizon  toward the end  of the first zode  of the second
day, I  realized that  the hours that  stretched away behind  us to Xanator
were,  for some  unaccountable  reason, as  happy a  period  as I  had ever
experienced.

Now  it  was over.  Tjanath  lay  before us,  and  with  the realization  I
experienced a  distinct regret that  Tjanath did not lie  upon the opposite
side of Barsoom.

With the exception of Sanoma Tora, I had never been particularly keen to be
much in the company of women. I do not mean to convey the impression that I
did not  like them,  for that would  not be true.  Their occasional company
offered a  diversion, which  I enjoyed and  of which I  took advantage, but
that I could be for so many hours in the exclusive company of a woman I did
not love  and thoroughly enjoy every  minute of it would  have seemed to me
quite impossible;  yet such had been the fact  and I found myself wondering
if Tavia had shared my enjoyment of the adventure.

"That  must be  Tjanath," I said  nodding in  the direction of  the distant
city.

"Yes," she replied.

"You must be glad that the journey is over," I ventured.

She looked up at  me quickly, her brows contracting suddenly in conjecture.
"Perhaps I should be," she replied enigmatically.

"It is your home," I reminded her.

"I have no home," she replied.

"But your friends are here," I insisted.

"I have no friends," she said.

"You forget Hadron of Hastor," I reminded her.

"No,"  she said,  "I do not  forget that you  have been  kind to me,  but I
remember  that  I am  only  an incident  in  your search  for Sanoma  Tora.
Tomorrow,  perhaps, you  will be  gone and  we shall  never see  each other
again."

I had  not thought of that  and I found that I did  not like to think about
it, and yet  I knew that it was true. "You will  soon make friends here," I
said.

I hope so," she  replied; "but I have been gone a very  long time and I was
so young when I  was taken away that I have but the faintest of memories of
my life in Tjanath. Tjanath really means nothing to me. I could be as happy
anywhere else in Barsoom with – with a friend."

We were now close above the outer wall of the city and our conversation was
interrupted by the appearance  of a flier, evidently a patrol, bearing down
upon  us. She  was sounding  an alarm  – the  shrill screaming of  her horn
shattering the silence of the early morning. Almost immediately the warning
was taken up by  gongs and shrieking sirens throughout the city. The patrol
boat  changed her  course  and rose  swiftly above  us, while  from landing
stages  all about  rose scores  of fighting  planes until we  were entirely
surrounded.

I tried  to hail  the nearer of them,  but the infernal din  of the warning
signals drowned my voice. Hundreds of guns covered us, their crews standing
ready to hurl destruction upon us.

"Does Tjanath  always receive visitors in  this hostile manner?" I inquired
of Tavia.

She shook  her head. "I do not know," she replied.  "Had we approached in a
strange ship of war, I might understand it; but why this little scout flier
should attract half the navy of Tjanath is – Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly.
"The design and color  of our flier mark its origin as Jahar. The people of
Tjanath have seen this  color before and they fear it; yet if that is true,
why is it that they have not fired upon us?"

I do not know  why they did not fire upon us at  first," I replied, "but it
is obvious why they do not now. Their ships are so thick about us that they
could   not   fire  without   endangering   their  own   craft  and   men."

"Can't  you  make  them   understand  that  we  are  friends?"  she  asked.

Immediately I made the  signs of friendship and of surrender, but the ships
seemed  afraid  to approach.  The  alarms  had ceased  and  the ships  were
circling silently about us.

Again I  hailed a nearby ship. "Do not fire,"  I shouted; "we are friends."

"Friends do not come  to Tjanath in the blue death ships of Jahar," replied
an officer upon the deck of the ship I had hailed.

"Let us come alongside,"  I insisted, "and at least I can prove to you that
we are harmless."

"You will not come  alongside my ship," he replied. "If you are friends you
can prove it by doing as I instruct you."

"What are your wishes?" I asked.

"Come about and take  your flier beyond the city walls. Ground her at least
a haad beyond the  east gate and then, with your companion, walk toward the
city."

"Can   you   promise   that   we  will   be   well   received?"  I   asked.

"You will  be questioned," he replied, "and if you  are all right, you have
nothing to fear."

"Very well," I replied,  "we will do as you say. Signal your other ships to
make way  for us," and then,  through the lane that  they opened, we passed
slowly back above the  walls of Tjanath and came to the ground about a haad
beyond the east gate.

As we approached the city the gates swung open and a detachment of warriors
marched out  to meet us. It was evident that  they were very suspicious and
fearful of us. The  padwar in charge of them ordered us to halt while there
were yet fully a hundred sofads between us.

"Throw  down  your  weapons,"   he  commanded,  "and  then  come  forward."

"But we are not enemies," I replied. "Do not the people of Tjanath know how
to receive friends?"

"Do  as you  are told  or we will  destroy you  both," was his  only reply.

I could not refrain  a shrug of disgust as I divested myself of my weapons,
while Tavia  threw down the short  sword that I had  loaned her. Unarmed we
advanced toward  the warriors,  but even then  the padwar was  not entirely
satisfied,  for  he  searched  our  harness  carefully  before  he  finally
conducted  us  into  the  city, keeping  us  well  surrounded by  warriors.

As  the east  gate  of Tjanath  closed behind  us I  realized that  we were
prisoners rather  than the guests that we had hoped  to be, but Tavia tried
to reassure me by  insisting that when they had heard our story we would be
set at liberty and  accorded the hospitality that she insisted was our due.

Our guards conducted us  to a building that stood upon the opposite side of
the avenue,  facing the east gate, and presently  we found ourselves upon a
broad  landing stage  upon the roof  of the  building. Here a  patrol flier
awaited us  and our padwar turned  us over to the  officer in charge, whose
attitude  toward  us  was  marked  by ill-concealed  hatred  and  distrust.

As  soon  as we  had  been  received on  board  the patrol  flier rose  and
proceeded toward the center of the city.

Below us  lay Tjanath,  giving the impression  of a city that  had not kept
abreast of  modem improvements.  It was marked  by signs of  antiquity; the
buildings reflected the architecture  of the ancients and many of them were
in a  state of disrepair, though much of the  city's ugliness was hidden or
softened by  the foliage of great trees and climbing  vines, so that on the
whole the aspect was more pleasing than otherwise. Toward the center of the
city was  a large plaza, entirely  surrounded by imposing public buildings,
including  the palace  of the  Jed. It was  upon the  roof of one  of these
buildings that the flier landed.

Under a  strong guard we were  conducted into the interior  of the building
and  after  a brief  wait  were  ushered into  the  presence  of some  high
official.  Evidently  he  had already  been  advised  of the  circumstances
surrounding our  arrival at Tjanath, for  he seemed to be  expecting us and
was  familiar  with all  that  had  transpired up  to  the present  moment.

"What do you at Tjanath, Jaharian?" he demanded.

"I am not from Jahar," I replied. "Look at my metal."

"A warrior may change his metal," he replied, gruffly.

"This man has not changed his metal," said Tavia. "He is not from Jahar; he
is  from  Hastor,  one   of  the  cities  of  Helium.  I  am  from  Jahar."

The  official looked  at  her in  surprise. "So  you  admit it!"  he cried.

"But first I was from Tjanath," said the girl.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"As a little child  I was stolen from Tjanath," replied Tavia. "All my life
since I have been a slave in the palace of Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar. Only
recently I escaped in the same flier upon which we arrived at Tjanath. Near
the dead  city of  Xanator I landed  and was captured  by the  green men of
Torquas.  This warrior,  who  is Hadron  of Hastor,  rescued me  from them.
Together   we   came  to   Tjanath,   expecting   a  friendly   reception."

"Who are your people in Tjanath?" demanded the official.

"I do  not know," replied Tavia; "I was  very young. I remember practically
nothing about my life in Tjanath."

"What is your name?"

"Tavia."

The  man's interest  in  her story,  which had  seemed  wholly perfunctory,
seemed suddenly altered and galvanized.

"You  know  nothing  about  your  parents  or your  family?"  he  demanded.

"Nothing," replied Tavia.

He turned  to the padwar who  was in charge of  our escort. "Hold them here
until I return," he said, and, rising from his desk, he left the apartment.

"He seemed to recognize your name," I said to Tavia.

"How could he?" she asked.

"Possibly he knew your family," I suggested; "at least his manner suggested
that we are going to be given some consideration."

"I hope so," she said.

"I feel  that our troubles are about over, Tavia,"  I assured her; "and for
your sake I shall be very happy."

"And you, I suppose,"  she said, "will endeavor to enlist aid in continuing
your search for Sanoma Tora?"

"Naturally,"  I   replied.  "Could  anything  less   be  expected  of  me?"

"No," she admitted in a very low voice.

Notwithstanding the fact that something in the demeanor of the official who
had  interrogated  us had  raised  my  hope for  our  future,  I was  still
conscious  of a feeling  of depression  as our conversation  emphasized the
near approach  of our  separation. It seemed  as though I  had always known
Tavia, for  the few  days that we  had been thrown together  had brought us
very close  indeed. I knew that I should miss  her sparkling wit, her ready
sympathy  and  the  quiet  companionship  of  her silences,  and  then  the
beautiful features of Sanoma  Tora were projected upon memory's screen and,
knowing where my duty lay, I cast vain regrets aside, for love, I knew, was
greater than friendship and I loved Sanoma Tora.

After a considerable lapse of time the official re-entered the apartment. I
searched his  face to  read the first  tidings of good news  there, but his
expression  was inscrutable;  however,  his first  words, addressed  to the
padwar, were entirely understandable.

"Confine the  woman in the East  Tower," he said, "and  send the man to the
pits."

That was all. It was like a blow in the face. I looked at Tavia and saw her
wide  eyes  upon  the  official. "You  mean  that  we  are  to  be held  as
prisoners?" she  demanded; "I, a daughter of  Tjanath, and this warrior who
came  here  from  a  friendly  nation  seeking your  aid  and  protection?"

"You will each have  a hearing later before the Jed," snapped the official.
"I have spoken. Take them away."

Several of  the warriors  seized me rather  roughly by the  arms. Tavia had
turned away  from the official and was looking  at me. "Good-bye, Hadron of
Hastor!"  she said. "It  is my fault  that you  are here. May  my ancestors
forgive me!"

"Do  not reproach  yourself,  Tavia," I  begged  her, "for  who might  have
foreseen such a stupid reception?"

We were taken from the apartment by different doorways and there we turned,
each for  a last look at  the other, and in  Tavia's eyes there were tears,
and in my heart.

The pits of Tjanath,  to which I was immediately conducted, are gloomy, but
they are  not enveloped  in impenetrable darkness  as are the  pits beneath
most  Barsoomian cities. Into  the dungeon  dim light filtered  through the
iron grating from the corridors, where ancient radium bulbs glowed faintly.
Yet it  was light  and I gave thanks  for that, for I  have always believed
that I should go mad imprisoned in utter darkness.

I  was heavily  fettered and  unnecessarily so,  it seemed  to me,  as they
chained  me to  a massive  iron ring  set deep  in the  masonry wall  of my
dungeon,  and then,  leaving  me, locked  also the  ponderous  iron grating
before the doorway.

As the footfalls of  the warriors diminished to nothingness in the distance
I heard  the faint sound of something moving nearby  me in my dungeon. What
could   it   be?   I   strained  my   eyes   into   the  gloomy   darkness.

Presently, as my eyes became more accustomed to the dim light in my cell, I
saw the figure of what appeared to be a man crouching against the wall near
me. Again I  heard a sound as he moved and this  time it was accompanied by
the rattle  of a chain, and  then I saw a face turn  toward me, but I could
not distinguish the features.

"Another guest to share the hospitality of Tjanath," said a voice that came
from the  blurred figure beside me.  It was a clear voice  – the voice of a
man   –  and   there  was   a  quality   to  its   timbre  that   I  liked.

"Do our hosts entertain many such as we?" I asked.

"In this  cell there was but one," he replied; "now  there are two. Are you
from Tjanath or elsewhere?"

"I am  from Hastor, city of  the Empire of Tardos  Mors, Jeddak of Helium."

"You are a long way from home," he said.

"Yes," I replied; "and you?"

"I am from Jahar," he answered. My name is Nur An."

"And mine is Hadron," I said. "Why are you here?"

"I  am a  prisoner  because I  am from  Jahar," he  replied. "What  is your
crime?"

"It is that they think I am from Jahar," I told him.

"What  made   them  think   that?  Do  you   wear  the  metal   of  Jahar?"

"No, I  wear the  metal of Helium,  but I chanced  to come to  Tjanath in a
Jaharian flier."

He whistled. "That would be hard to explain," he said.

"I found  it so," I admitted.  "They would not believe  a word of my story,
nor of that of my companion."

"You had a companion, then?" he asked. "Where is he?"

"It was  a woman. She  was born in Tjanath,  but for long years  had been a
slave  in Jahar.  Perhaps later they  will believe  her story, but  for the
present we  are in prison. I heard them order her  to the East Tower, while
they sent me here to the prison."

"And here  you will stay until  you rot, unless you  are lucky enough to be
called  for the  games, or unlucky  enough to  be sentenced to  The Death."

"What is  The Death?" I asked,  my curiosity piqued by  his emphasis of the
words.

"I do not know,"  he replied. "The warriors who come here often speak of it
as though  it was something quite horrible. Perhaps  they do it to frighten
me, but if that  is true, then they have had very little satisfaction, for,
whether  or not  I  have been  frightened, I  have  not let  them  see it."

"Let us hope for the games, then," I said.

"They are dull and  stupid people here in Tjanath," said my companion. "The
warriors have told me that sometimes many years elapse between games in the
arena, but we may hope at least, for surely it would be better to die there
with  a good  long  sword in  one's hand  rather  than to  rot here  in the
darkness, or die The Death, whatever it may be."

"You  are right," I  said. "Let us  beseech our  ancestors that the  Jed of
Tjanath decrees games in the near future."

"So  you are  from Hastor,"  he said,  musingly, after a  moment's silence.
"That is a long  way from Tjanath. Pressing must have been the service that
brought you so far afield!"

"I was searching for Jahar," I replied.

"Perhaps you are as  well off that you found Tjanath first," he said, "for,
though  I  am  a  Jaharian,  I  cannot  boast the  hospitality  of  Jahar."

"You think I would not have been accorded a cordial welcome there, then?" I
asked.

"By  my first  ancestor, no,"  he exclaimed  most emphatically.  "Tul Axtar
would have had  you in the pits before he asked your  name, and the pits of
Jahar are not as light nor as pleasant as these."

"I did  not intend that Tul  Axtar should know that  I was visiting him," I
said.

"You are a spy?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "The  daughter of the commander of the umak to which I was
attached was  abducted by Jaharians, and, I have  reason to believe, by the
orders  of Tul Axtar  himself. To effect  her rescue  was the object  of my
journey."

"You tell this to a Jaharian?" he asked lightly.

"With perfect  impunity," I  replied. "In the  first place, I  have read in
your words  and your  tone that you are  no friend to Tul  Axtar, Jeddak of
Jahar, and,  secondly, there is evidently little  chance that you ever will
return to Jahar."

"You are  right in  both conjectures," he  said. "I most  assuredly have no
love for Tul Axtar. He is a beast, hated by all decent men. The cause of my
hatred for him so  closely parallels your own reason to hate Tul Axtar that
we are indeed bound by a common tie."

"How is that?" I demanded.

"All my life I  have never felt aught but contempt for Tul Axtar, Jeddak of
Jahar, but  this contempt was not  transmuted into hatred until  he stole a
woman, and  it was the stealing of a woman,  also, that directed your venom
against him."

"A woman of your family?" I asked.

"My sweetheart,  the woman I was to marry," replied Nur  An. "I am a noble.
My family  is of  ancient lineage and  great wealth. For  these reasons Tul
Axtar knew that he had good cause to fear me, and urged on by this fear, he
confiscated my property and  sentenced me to death, but I have many friends
in Jahar  and one of these,  a common warrior of  the guard, connived at my
escape after I had been imprisoned in the pits.

"I made  my way  to Tjanath and  told my story  to Haj Osis,  the Jed, and,
laying my sword  at his feet, I offered him my services,  but Haj Osis is a
suspicious old fool  and saw in me only a spy from  Jahar. He ordered me to
the pits and here I have lain for a long time."

"Jahar must  be, indeed, an unhappy  country," I said, "ruled  over, as she
is, by such a  man as Tul Axtar. Recently I have heard  much of him, but as
yet I have not heard him credited with a single virtue."

"He has  none," said Nur An. "He is a  cruel tyrant, rotten with corruption
and vice. If any of the great powers of Barsoom could have guessed what was
in  his  mind,  Jahar  would have  been  reduced  long  ago  and Tul  Axtar
destroyed."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"For at least two hundred years Tul Axtar has fostered a magnificent dream,
the conquest of all  Barsoom. During all this time he has made manpower his
fetish; no eggs might  be destroyed, each woman being compelled to preserve
all that she laid. (Note: Martians are oviparous.) An army of officials and
inspectors took  a record of the production of  each female. Those that had
the  greatest  number  of   males  were  rewarded;  the  unproductive  were
destroyed.  When  it was  discovered  that  marriage tended  to reduce  the
productivity of  the females  of Jahar, marriage among  any classes beneath
the nobility was proscribed by imperial edict.

"The result  has been an apalling increase in  population until many of the
provinces of Jahar cannot  support the incalculable numbers that swarm like
ants  in a  hill.  The richest  agricultural  land upon  Barsoom could  not
support such  numbers; every natural resource  has been exhausted; millions
are   starving,  and   in   large  districts   cannibalism  is   prevalent.

"During all this time Tul Axtar's officers have been training the males for
war.  From earliest  consciousness the  thought of  war has  been implanted
within their  minds. To war and  to war alone do  they look for relief from
the hideous  conditions which  oppress them until  today countless millions
are clamoring  for war,  realizing that victory  means loot, and  that loot
means  food and  riches. Already Tul  Axtar commands  an army of  such vast
proportions that  the fate of Barsoom might readily lie  in the palm of his
hand were it not for but a single obstacle."

"And what is that?" I asked.

"Tul Axtar  is a  coward," replied Nur  An. "Having fulfilled  his dream of
manpower, he is afraid to use it lest by some accident of fate his military
plans  should fail  and his  troops meet  defeat. Therefore, he  has waited
while he urged on the scientists of Jahar to produce some weapon that would
be so  far superior in its  destructive power to anything  possessed by any
other   nation   of  Barsoom   that   his  armies   would  be   invincible.

"For years  the best minds of Jahar labored with  the problem until at last
one of our most  eminent scientists, an old man named Phor Tak, developed a
rifle of amazing properties.

The success  of Phor  Tak aroused the  jealousies of other  scientists, and
though  the old  man had  given Tul  Axtar what  he sought, yet  the tyrant
showed no  gratitude, and  Phor Tak was  subjected to such  indignities and
oppressions that eventually he fled from Jahar.

"That, however,  is of no import; all that Phor Tak  could do for Tul Axtar
he had done, and  with the new rifle in his possession, the Jeddak was glad
to be rid of the old scientist."

Naturally I was much interested in the rifle which Nur An had mentioned and
I hoped  that he would go  into a further and  more detailed description of
it, but  I dared not suggest  that for fear that  the natural loyalty which
every  man feels  for  the country  of his  birth  might restrain  him from
divulging her military secrets to a stranger. I was to learn, however, that
those  lofty sentiments  of patriotism, which  are a  part of every  man of
Helium, were  induced as much by the love and respect  in which we held our
great jeddaks as by our natural attachment to the land of our birth; while,
upon the  other hand, the Jaharians looked  only with contempt and loathing
upon the  head of  their state and feeling  no loyalty for him,  who was in
effect the state, they looked upon patriotism as nothing more than an empty
catchword, which  an unworthy master had  used to his own  end until it had
become meaningless,  and so, while at  the moment I was  surprised, I later
came to  understand why it was that Nur  An voluntarily explained in detail
to me all that  he knew about the strange new weapon of Jahar and the means
of defense against it.

"This new  rifle," he continued after a  moment's silence, would render all
the other  armies and navies of Barsoom impotent  before us. It projects an
invisible  ray,  the  vibrations  of which  effect  such  a  change in  the
constitution  of  metals as  to  cause them  to  disintegrate. I  am not  a
scientist;  I  do  not  fully  understand  the  exact  explanation  of  the
phenomenon, but  from what  I was able  to gather while the  new weapon was
being discussed  in Jahar I am under the  impression that these rays change
the  polarity of the  protons in  metallic substances, releasing  the whole
mass as  free electrons. I have  also heard the theory  expounded that Phor
Tak,  in  his  investigation,  discovered that  the  fundamental  principle
underlying time,  matter and  space are identical,  and that what  the rays
projected  from his  rifle really  accomplish is  to translate any  mass of
metal upon  which it is  directed into the most  elementary constituents of
space.

"But be  that as  it may, Tul  Axtar had the  manpower and  the weapon, yet
still he hesitated. He  was afraid and he sought for some excuse further to
delay  the war  of conquest  and loot  which his  millions of  subjects now
demanded,  and to  this end  he hit  upon the  plan of insisting  upon some
medium  of defense  against  this new  rifle, basing  his demands  upon the
possibility  that some  other power  might also  have discovered  a similar
weapon or  would eventually,  by the use  of spies or  informers, learn the
secret from  Jahar. Probably greatly to  his surprise and unquestionably to
his embarrassment, a man who had been an assistant in Phor Tak's laboratory
presently  developed  a substance  which  dissipated  the rays  of the  new
weapon, rendering them harmless.  With this substance, which is of a bluish
color, the  metal portions of the  ships, weapons and harness  of Jahar are
now painted.

"But yet  again Tul Axtar postponed his  war, insisting upon the production
of an  enormous quantity of the  new rifles and a  mighty fleet of warships
upon which to mount them. Then, he says, he will sail forth and conquer all
Barsoom."

The destruction of the  patrol boat above Helium the night of the abduction
of Sanoma  Tora was now  quite clear to me,  and when Nur An  told me later
that Tul Axtar had sent experimental fliers to attack Tjanath, I understood
why it was that  the blue flier in which Tavia and I had arrived had caused
such  consternation, but  the  thought that  upset  my mind  almost to  the
exclusion of  the plight of Sanoma Tora was that  somewhere in the thin air
of dying Barsoom a great Heliumetic fleet was moving to attack Jahar, or at
least that  was what  I supposed since  I had no  reason to  doubt that the
message that  I had  given to the  majordomo of Tor Hatan's  palace had not
been  delivered  to the  Warlord.  To lie  here  enchained in  the pits  of
Tjanath, while the great fleet of Helium sped to its destruction, filled me
with horror.  With my own eyes had I seen the  effects of this terrible new
weapon and I knew that it was no idle dream upon the part of Nur An when he
had stated  that with it Tul  Axtar could conquer a  world; but there was a
defense against it. If I could but regain my freedom, I might not only warn
the  ships  of Helium  and  save them  from  inevitable doom,  but also  in
connection  with my quest  for Sanoma Tora  in the  city of Jahar,  I might
discover the  secret of the defense against  the weapon which the Jaharians
had evolved.

Freedom! Before  it had only seemed the most  desirable thing in the world;
now it had become imperative.

Six

                              SENTENCED TO DIE

I WAS  NOT LONG in the pits of Tjanath  before warriors came, and, removing
my fetters, led me from my dungeon. There were only two of them and I could
not but note their carelessness and the laxness of their discipline as they
escorted me to  an upper level of the palace, but at  the time I thought it
meant only that the attitude of the officials had altered and that I was to
be free.

There was nothing remarkable about the palace of the Jed of Tjanath. It was
a poor place by  comparison with the palaces of some of the great nobles of
Helium,  yet  never  before,  I imagined,  had  I  challenged with  greater
interest every  detail of architecture, every  corridor and doorway, or the
manners, harness and decorations  of the people that passed us, for, though
in my heart was the hope that I was about to be free, yet I considered this
place my prison and  these people my jailers, and, as my one object in life
was to  escape, I was determined  to let no detail  elude my eye that might
possibly in any way aid me if the time should come when I must make a break
for liberty.

It  was such  thoughts  that were  uppermost in  my mind  as I  was ushered
through wide  portals into the presence of a  bejeweled warrior. As my eyes
first alighted  upon him I knew  at once that I was  in the presence of Haj
Osis, Jed of Tjanath.

As my guard halted me before him, the Jed scrutinized me intently with that
air   of    suspicion   which   is   his    most   marked   characteristic.

"Your name and country?" he demanded.

"I  am  Hadron  of  Hastor, padwar  in  the  navy  of  Helium," I  replied.

"You are from Jahar," he accused. "You came here from Jahar with a woman of
Jahar in a flier of Jahar. Can you deny it?"

I  told Haj  Osis in  detail everything that  had led  up to my  arrival at
Tjanath. I  told him Tavia's story as well, and I  must at least credit him
with listening  to me in patience,  though I was constantly  impressed by a
feeling that  my appeal was being directed at  a mind already so prejudiced
against  me that  nothing  that I  might say  could alter  its convictions.

The chiefs and courtiers  that surrounded the Jed evidenced open skepticism
in their manner until I became convinced that fear of Tul Axtar so obsessed
them that  they were unable to  consider intelligently any matter connected
with the activities of the Jeddak of Jahar. Terror made them suspicious and
suspicion sees everything through distorted lenses.

When I had finished my story, Haj Osis ordered me removed from the room and
I  was held in  a small ante-chamber  for some  time while, I  imagined, he
discussed my case with his advisors.

When I was again ushered into his presence I felt that the whole atmosphere
of the  chamber was charged with  antagonism, as for the  second time I was
halted before  the dais upon which the Jed  sat in his carved throne-chair.

"The laws  of Tjanath are just,"  proclaimed Haj Osis, glaring  at me, "and
the  Jed of  Tjanath  is merciful.  The  enemies of  Tjanath shall  receive
justice, but  they may not expect  mercy. You, who call  yourself Hadron of
Hastor, have been adjudged  a spy of our most malignant enemy, Tul Axtar of
Jahar, and  as such  I, Haj Osis, Jed  of Tjanath, sentence you  to die The
Death. I have spoken." With an imperious gesture he signalled the guards to
remove me.

There was  no appeal. My doom was sealed, and in  silence I turned and left
the chamber, escorted by a guard of warriors, but for the honor of Helium I
may say that my step was firm and my chin high.

On my  return to  the pits I questioned  the padwar in charge  of my escort
relative  to Tavia,  but if  the fellow  knew aught  of her, he  refused to
divulge it to me  and presently I found myself again fettered in the gloomy
dungeon by the side of Nur An of Jahar.

"Well?" he asked.

"The Death," I replied.

He extended a manacled  hand through the darkness and placed it upon one of
mine. I am sorry, my friend," he said.

"Man has but one life," I replied; "if he is permitted to give it in a good
cause, he should not complain."

"You die for a woman," he said.

"I die for a woman of Helium," I corrected.

"Perhaps   we  shall  die   together,"  he   said.  "What  do   you  mean?"

"While  you were  gone a messenger  came from  the majordomo of  the palace
advising me to make  peace with my ancestors as I should die The Death in a
short time."

"I wonder what The Death is like," I said.

"I do  not know," replied Nur  An, "but from the  awe-hushed tones in which
they   mention   it,  I   imagine   that   it  must   be  very   terrible."

"Torture, do you imagine?" I asked.

"Perhaps," he replied.

"They will find  that the men of Helium who know so  well how to live, know
also how to die," I said.

"I shall  hope to  render a good  account of myself  also," said  Nur An. I
shall not  give them  the satisfaction of  knowing that I  suffer. Still, I
wish  I might  know  beforehand what  it is  like  that I  might  better be
prepared to meet it."

"Let us not depress our thoughts by dwelling upon it," I suggested. "Let us
rather  take the  part of  men and  consider only  plans for  thwarting our
enemies and effecting our escape."

"I am afraid that is hopeless," he said.

"I may answer that,"  I said, "in the famous words of John Carter: 'I still
live!'"

"The blind  philosophy of  absolute courage," he said  admiringly, "but yet
futile."

"It served him well  many a time," I insisted, "for it gave him the will to
attempt the impossible and to succeed. We still live, Nur An; do not forget
that – we still live!"

"Make the best of  it while you can," said a gruff voice from the corridor,
"for it will not long be true."

The speaker entered our  dungeon – a warrior of the guard, and with him was
a  single companion.  I  wondered how  much  of our  conversation they  had
overheard, but I was soon reassured, for the very next words of the warrior
that had first spoken  revealed the fact that they had heard nothing but my
assertion that we still lived.

"What did you mean by that," he asked, "'remember, Nur An, we still live?'"

I pretended  not to  hear his question and  he did not repeat  it, but came
directly to me and  unlocked my fetters. As he turned to unlock those which
held  Nur An,  he  turned his  back to  me  and I  could  not but  note his
inexcusable  carelessness. His  companion lolled  at the doorway  while the
first  warrior bent  over  the padlock  that held  the  fetters of  Nur An.

My ancestors were kind  to me; little had I expected such an opportunity as
this, yet I  waited – like a great banth ready to  spring I waited until he
should have  released Nur  An, and then,  as the fetters fell  away from my
companion, I flung myself upon the back of the warrior. He sprawled forward
upon his face on the stone flagging, falling heavily beneath my weight, and
as he  did so I snatched his dagger from its  sheath and plunged it between
his shoulder blades. With  a single cry he died, but I had no fear that the
echo of  that cry would carry  upward out of the  gloomy pits of Tjanath to
warn his fellows upon the level above.

But  the fellow's  companion had  seen and  heard and  with a bound  he was
across the dungeon, his  long sword ready in his hand, and now I was to see
the mettle of which Nur An was made.

The affair had occurred so quickly, like a bolt of lightning out of a clear
sky, that  any man might have been excused  had he been momentarily stunned
into inactivity by the momentousness of my act, but Nur An was guilty of no
fatal delay. As though  we had planned the thing together it seemed that he
leaped forward  the instant that I  sprang for the warrior  and ran to meet
his  companion. Barehanded,  he  faced the  long sword  of  his antagonist.

The gloom  of the dungeon reduced the advantage of the  armed man. He saw a
figure leaping  to meet his attack and in the  excitement of the moment and
in  the dark  of the  cell, he  did not  know that  Nur An was  unarmed. He
hesitated, paused  and stepped back to  receive the impetuous attack coming
out of  the darkness, and in  that instant I had  whipped the long sword of
the  fallen warrior  from its  scabbard and  was charging  the fellow  at a
slightly different angle from Nur An.

An instant later we  were engaged and I found the fellow no mean swordsman;
yet from  the instant that our blades crossed I knew  that I was his master
and be  must soon  have realized it,  too, for he  fell back,  fully on the
defensive, evidently  bent upon escaping to  the corridor. This, however, I
was determined not to  permit and so I pressed him so closely that he dared
not turn to  run; nor did he call for help, and  this, I guess, was because
he realized the futility of so doing.

With the  desperation of caged animals  Nur An and I  were fighting for our
lives. There could be  no question here of the scrupulous observance of the
niceties  of  combat. It  was  his life  or  ours. Realizing  this, Nur  An
snatched  the short  sword from  the corpse  of the  fallen warrior  and an
instant  later  the second  man  was  lying in  a  pool of  his own  blood.

"And now what?" asked Nur An.

"Are you familiar with the palace?" I asked.

"No," he replied.

"Then  we  must  depend upon  what  little  I was  able  to  glean from  my
observation of it," I said. "Let us get into the harnesses of these two men
at  once. Perhaps  they will offer  a sufficient  disguise to permit  us to
reach one  of the upper levels at least,  for without an intimate knowledge
of  the pits  it is  useless for us  to try  to seek escape  below ground."

"You  are right,"  he said,  and a  few moments  later we emerged  into the
corridors, to  all intents and purposes,  two warriors of the  guard of Haj
Osis,  Jed of  Tjanath. Believing that  up to  a certain point  boldness of
demeanor  would be  our  best safeguard  against detection,  I led  the way
toward  the ground  level of the  palace without  attempting in any  way to
resort to stealth or secrecy.

"There are  many warriors at the  main entrance of the  palace," I told Nur
An, "and without knowing  something of the regulations governing the coming
and going  of the inmates of the building, it  would be suicidal to attempt
to reach the avenue beyond the palace by that route."

"What do you suggest then?" he asked.

"The  ground level of  the palace is  a busy  place, people are  coming and
going constantly through the  corridors. Doubtless some of the upper levels
are less  frequented. Let  us therefore seek  a hiding place  higher up and
from  the vantage  point  of some  balcony we  may  be able  to work  out a
feasible plan of escape."

"Good!" he said. "Lead on!"

Ascending the winding ramp from the lower pits, we passed two levels before
we reached the ground level of the palace, without meeting a single person,
but  the  instant that  we  emerged upon  the  ground level  we saw  people
everywhere; Officers,  courtiers, warriors,  slaves and merchants  moved to
and fro  upon their various duties  or in pursuit of  the business that had
brought them  to the palace, but their very  numbers proved a safeguard for
us.

Upon the  side of the corridor opposite from the  point at which we entered
it  lay an  arched  entrance to  another  ramp running  upward. Without  an
instant's hesitation I crossed  through the throng of people, and, with Nur
An  at my  side, passed beneath  the arch  and entered the  ascending ramp.

Scarcely had  we started upward when we met  a young officer descending. He
accorded us scarcely a  glance as we passed and I breathed more easily as I
realized that our disguises did, in fact, disguise us.

There were fewer people  on the second level of the palace, but yet far too
many  to suit  me and  so we continued  on upward  to the third  level, the
corridors of which we found almost deserted.

Near the mouth of the ramp lay the intersection of two main corridors. Here
we hesitated  for an instant to  reconnoiter. There were people approaching
from both  directions along the corridor into which  we had emerged, but in
one  direction  the  transverse corridor  seemed  deserted  and we  quickly
entered  it. It  was a  very long  corridor, apparently extending  the full
length  of the  palace.  It was  flanked at  intervals  upon both  sides by
doorways, the doors to some of which were open, while others were closed or
ajar. Through some of the open doorways we saw people, while the apartments
revealed  through others appeared  vacant. The  location of these  we noted
carefully as  we moved slowly along,  carefully observing every detail that
might later prove of value to us.

We had traversed about  two-thirds of this long corridor when a man stepped
into it  from a  doorway a couple  of hundred feet  ahead of us.  He was an
officer, apparently  a padwar of the guard. He halted  in the middle of the
corridor as a file  of warriors emerged from the same doorway, and, forming
in a column of  twos, marched in our direction, the officer bringing up the
rear.

Here was a test for our disguises that I did not care to risk. There was an
open doorway at  our left; beyond it I could see no  one. "Come!" I said to
Nur An, and without  accelerating our speed we walked nonchalantly into the
chamber, and as Nur  An crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind him
and as  I did so I  saw a young woman standing at  the opposite side of the
apartment looking squarely at us.

"What do you here, warriors?" she demanded.

Here,  indeed, was  an embarrassing  situation. In  the corridor  without I
could hear the clank of the accoutrements of the approaching warriors and I
knew  that  the girl  must hear  it,  too. If  I  did aught  to arouse  her
suspicion,  she  had but  to  call  for help,  and  how might  I allay  her
suspicion when  I had not the faintest conception of  what might pass for a
valid excuse for the presence of two warriors in this particular apartment,
which for  all I  knew, might be the  apartment of a princess  of the royal
house,  to enter  which  without permission  might easily  mean death  to a
common warrior. I thought quickly, or perhaps I did not think at all; often
we   act   rightly   upon   impulse  and   then   credit   the  result   to
super-intelligence.

"We  have  come  for  the  girl,"  I  stated  brusquely.  "Where  is  she?"

"What girl?" demanded the young woman in surprise.

"The prisoner, of course," I replied.

"The prisoner?" she looked more puzzled than before.

"Of course," said Nur An, "the prisoner. Where is she?" and I almost smiled
for I  knew that Nur An  had not the faintest idea of  what was in my mind.

"There  is  no  prisoner  here,"  said  the  young woman.  "These  are  the
apartments of the infant son of Haj Osis."

"The fool misdirected us,"  I said. "We are sorry that we intruded. We were
sent  to  fetch  the  girl,  Tavia,  who  is  a prisoner  in  the  palace."

It was  only a guess. I  did not know that Tavia  was a prisoner, but after
the   treatment  that   had   been  accorded   me  I   surmised   as  much.

"She is  not here," said the  young woman, "and as  for you, you had better
leave these  apartments at once for  if you are discovered  here it will go
ill with you."

Nur An,  who was  standing beside me,  had been looking at  the young woman
intently. He stepped forward now, closer to her.

"By  my  first ancestor,"  he  exclaimed  in a  low  voice,  "it is  Phao!"

The  girl  stepped  back,  her eyes  wide  with  surprise  and then  slowly
recognition dawned within them. "Nur An!" she exclaimed.

Nur An came  close to the girl and took her hand  in his. "All these years,
Phao, I have thought  that you were dead," he said. "When the ship returned
the  captain  reported  that  you and  a  number  of  others were  killed."

"He lied,"  said the  girl. "He sold  us into slavery here  in Tjanath; but
you,  Nur  An,  what  are  you  doing  here  in the  harness  of  Tjanath?"

I am  a prisoner," replied my companion, "as is  this warrior also. We have
been confined in the pits beneath the palace and today we were to have died
The Death, but we killed the two warriors who were sent to fetch us and now
we are trying to find our way out of the palace."

"Then   you   are  not   looking   for   the  girl,   Tavia?"  she   asked.

"Yes," I said, "we are looking for her, too. She was made a prisoner at the
same time that I was."

"Perhaps I  can help you,"  said Phao; "perhaps," she  added wistfully, "we
may all escape together."

I shall not escape without you, Phao," said Nur An.

"My   ancestors  have   been  good   to  me   at  last,"  said   the  girl.

"Where is Tavia?" I asked.

"She is in the East Tower," replied Phao.

"Can  you  lead us  there,  or  tell us  how  we  may reach  it?" I  asked.

"It  would do  no good to  lead you to  it," she  replied, "as the  door is
locked   and  guards  stand   before  it.   But  there  is   another  way."

"And that?" I asked.

"I know  where the keys are,  she said, "and I  know other things that will
prove helpful."

"May our ancestors protect  and reward you, Phao," I said. "And now tell me
where I may find the keys."

I shall  have to lead you to the place myself,"  she replied, "but we shall
stand  a better  chance to  succeed if  there are  not too  many of  us. I,
therefore, suggest  that Nur  An remain here.  I shall place  him in hiding
where he will  not be found. I will then lead you  to the prisoner, and, if
possible, we will make our way back to this apartment. I am in charge here.
Only at regular hours, twice a day, night and morning, does any other visit
the apartment of the  little prince. Here I can hide you and feed you for a
long time  and perhaps eventually we shall be  able to evolve some feasible
plan for escape."

"We are  in your  hands, Phao," said Nur  An. "If there is  to be fighting,
though, I should like to accompany Hadron."

"If we  succeed there will be  no fighting," replied the  girl. She stepped
quickly  across the  room to a  door, which  she opened, revealing  a large
closet.  "Here, Nur  An,"  she said,  "is where  you  must remain  until we
return. There is no  reason why anyone should open this door, and in so far
as I  know, it never has been opened since  I have occupied these quarters,
except by me."

"I do  not like the idea  of hiding," said Nur An with  a grimace, "but – I
have had to do  many things recently that I did not like," and without more
words he  crossed the apartment and entered the  closet. Their eyes met for
an instant  before Phao  closed the door, and  I read in the  depth of both
that which  made me wonder, remembering as I did the  story that Nur An had
told me  of the  other woman whom Tul  Axtar had stolen from  him. But such
matters were no concern of mine, nor had they any bearing upon the business
at hand.

"Here is my plan, warrior," said Phao as she returned to my side. "When you
entered  this apartment  you  came saying  that  you were  looking for  the
prisoner, Tavia.  Although she  was not here,  I believed you.  We will go,
therefore, to  Yo Seno, the keeper  of the keys, and  you will tell him the
same story that you have been sent to fetch the prisoner, Tavia. If Yo Seno
believes  you, all will  be well, for  he will  go himself and  release the
prisoner, turning her over to you."

"And if he does not believe me?" I asked.

"He is  a beast," she said,  "who is better dead  than alive. Therefore you
will know what to do."

"I understand," I said. "Lead the way."

The office of Yo Seno, the keeper of the keys, was upon the fourth level of
the palace, almost directly above the quarters of the infant prince. At the
doorway Phao  halted, and  drawing my ear  down to her  lips, whispered her
final  instructions. "I shall  enter first,"  she said, "upon  some trivial
errand. A  moment later you may enter, but pay no  attention to me. It must
not appear that we have come together."

"I understand," I said, and walked a few paces along the corridor so that I
should not be in sight when the door opened. She told me afterward that she
asked Yo Seno to  have a new key made for one of  the numerous doors in the
apartment of the little prince.

I waited  but a  moment, and then I,  too, entered the apartment.  It was a
gloomy room  without windows. Upon its walls  hung keys of every imaginable
size and shape. Behind a large desk sat a coarse-looking man, who looked up
quickly and scowled at the interruption as I entered.

"Well?" he demanded.

"I  have come  for the woman,  Tavia," I  said, "the prisoner  from Jahar."

"Who sent you? What do you want of her?" he demanded.

"I have orders to bring her to Haj Osis," I replied.

He  looked at  me  suspiciously. "You  bring  a written  order?" he  asked.

"Of course  not," I replied, "it  is not necessary. She  is not to be taken
out   of   the   palace;   merely   from   one   apartment   to   another."

"I must have a written order," he snapped.

"Haj  Osis will  not be  pleased," I  said, "when  he learns that  you have
refused to obey his command."

"I am  not refusing," said  Yo Seno. "Do not  dare to say that  I refuse. I
cannot turn a prisoner over without a written order. Show me your authority
and I will give you the keys."

I saw that the plan had failed; other measures must be taken. I whipped out
my long  sword. "Here  is my authority!"  I exclaimed, leaping  toward him.

With an  oath he drew  his own sword, but  instead of facing me  with it he
stepped  quickly back,  the desk  still between  us and, turning,  struck a
copper gong heavily with the flat of his blade.

As I rushed toward  him I heard the sound of hurrying feet and the clank of
metal  from  an  adjoining  room.  Yo  Seno, still  backing  away,  sneered
sardonically,  and then  the lights  went out  and the windowless  room was
plunged into  darkness. Soft fingers grasped  my left hand and  a low voice
whispered in my ear, "Come with me."

Quickly I  was drawn  to one side and  through a narrow aperture  just as a
door upon  the opposite side of  the chamber was flung  open, revealing the
forms of half a  dozen warriors silhouetted against the light from the room
behind them.  Then the door closed  directly in front of  my face and I was
again  in  utter  darkness,  but  Phao's  fingers still  grasped  my  hand.

"Silence!" a soft voice whispered.

From beyond  the panels I heard angry and  excited voices. Above the others
one   voice  rose   in   tones  of   authority.  "What   is   wrong  here?"

There were muttered exclamations and curses as men bumped against pieces of
furniture and ran into one another.

"Give us  a light,"  cried a voice,  and a moment later,  "That is better."

"Where  is Yo  Seno? Oh,  there you  are, you  fat rascal. What  is amiss?"

"By Issus! he is gone." The voice was that of Yo Seno.

"Who  is  gone?"  demanded  the  other  voice.  "Why did  you  summon  us?"

I was  attacked by a warrior,"  explained Yo Seno, "who  came demanding the
key to the apartment  where Haj Osis keeps the daughter of– –." I could not
hear the rest of the sentence.

"Well, where is the man?" demanded the other.

"He is  gone –  and the key,  too. The key  is gone," Yo  Seno's voice rose
almost to a wail.

"Quick,  then,  to the  apartment  where  the girl  is  kept," cried  first
speaker, doubtless  the officer  of the guard,  and almost at  once I heard
them hasten from the apartment.

The girl at my  side moved a little and I heard a low laugh. "They will not
find the key," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I have it," she replied.

"Little good it will do us," I said ruefully. "They will keep the door well
guarded now and we cannot use the key."

Phao laughed again. "We  do not need the key," she said. I took it to throw
them off  the track.  They will watch  the door while  we enter elsewhere."

"I do not understand," I said.

"This corridor leads between  the partitions to the room where the prisoner
is kept. I  know that because, when I was a prisoner  in that room, Yo Seno
came thus to visit me. He is a beast. I hope he has not visited this girl –
I hope it for your sake, if you love her."

"I do  not love her," I  said. "She is only a  friend." But I scarcely knew
what I  was saying, the words seemed to come mechanically  for I was in the
grip of  such an emotion as  I never before had  experienced or endured. It
had seized  me the instant that Phao had suggested  that Yo Seno might have
visited Tavia through this  secret corridor. I experienced a sensation that
was almost  akin to a convulsion – a sensation that  left me a changed man.
Before, I  could have  killed Yo Seno  with my sword  and been  glad; now I
wanted to tear him to pieces; I wanted to mutilate him and make him suffer.
Never before  in my  life had I  experienced such a bestial  desire. It was
hideous, and yet I gloated in its possession.

"What is the matter?"  exclaimed Phao. "I thought I felt you tremble then."

"I trembled," I said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For Yo Seno," I replied, "but let us hasten. If this corridor leads to the
apartment where  Tavia is in prison,  I cannot reach her  to soon, for when
Haj Osis  learns that the key  has been stolen he  will have her removed to
another prison."

"He will not learn  it if Yo Seno and the padwar of the guard can prevent,"
said Phao,  "for if this reached the ears of Haj  Osis it might easily cost
them both  their lives. They will  wait for you to  come that they may kill
you and  get the  key, but they will  wait outside the prison  door and you
will not come that way."

As she  spoke she started to walk along  the narrow, dark corridor, leading
me by the hand  behind her. It was slow work for Phao  had to grope her way
slowly because  the corridor turned sharply at  right angles as it followed
the partitions  of the apartments  between which it passed,  and there were
numerous stairways  that led up over  doorways and finally a  ladder to the
level above.

Presently she  halted. "We are  there," she whispered, "but  we must listen
first  to  make  sure  that no  one  has  entered  the  apartment with  the
prisoner."

I could see absolutely  nothing in the darkness, and how Phao knew that she
had reached her destination, I could not guess.

"It  is all  right," she  said presently,  and simultaneously she  pushed a
wooden panel ajar  and in the opening I saw a portion  of the interior of a
circular  apartment  with  narrow  windows  heavily  barred.  Opposite  the
opening, upon  a pile of sleeping silks and furs,  I saw a woman reclining.
Only a  bare shoulder, a tiny ear and a head  of tousled hair were visible.
At the first glance I knew that they were Tavia's.

As we stepped into the apartment Phao closed the panel behind us. Attracted
by the sound of  our entrance, quietly executed though it was, Tavia sat up
and looked  at us and then,  as she recognized me,  sprang to her feet. Her
eyes were  wide with surprise and  there was an exclamation  upon her lips,
which I  silenced by a warning forefinger placed  against my own. I crossed
the apartment  toward her,  and she came  to meet me, almost  running. As I
looked into  her eyes I saw  an expression there that  I have never seen in
the eyes  of any  other woman –  at least not  for me  – and if  I had ever
doubted  Tavia's  friendship, such  a  doubt  would have  vanished in  that
instant, but  I had not doubted it and I was  only surprised now to realize
the depth of it.  Had Sanoma Tora ever looked at me like that I should have
read love in the expression, but I had never spoken of love to Tavia and so
I knew  that it  was only friendship that  she felt. I had  always been too
much engrossed in my profession to make any close friendships so that I had
never realized  until that  moment what a wonderful  thing friendship might
be.

As  we met  in  the center  of the  room  her eyes,  moist with  tears were
upturned to  mine. "Hadron,"  she whispered, her voice  husky with emotion,
and then  I put my arm  about her slender shoulders and  drew her to me and
something that  was quite beyond my  volition impelled me to  kiss her upon
the forehead.  Instantly she disengaged  herself and I feared  that she had
misunderstood  that  impulsive  kiss  of  friendship, but  her  next  words
reassured me.

"I thought  never to see you again, Hadron of  Hastor," she said. "I feared
that they had  killed you. How comes it that you are  here and in the metal
of a warrior of Tjanath?"

I told  her briefly of what had occurred to me  since we had been separated
and of  how I  had temporarily, at  least, escaped The Death.  She asked me
what The Death was, but I could not tell her.

"It is very horrible," said Phao.

"What is it?" I asked.

I do  not know,"  replied the girl, "only  that it is horrible.  There is a
deep pit, some say  a bottomless pit, beneath the lower pits of the palace;
horrible noises – groans  and moans arise perpetually from it and into this
pit those  that are to die  The Death are cast, but in  such a way that the
fall will not kill them. They must reach the bottom alive to endure all the
horrors  of The  Death that await  them there.  That the torture  is almost
interminable  is evidenced  by the fact  that the  moans and groans  of the
victims never  cease, no matter how long a  period may have elapsed between
executions."

"And you have escaped it," exclaimed Tavia. "My prayers have been answered.
For days  and nights have I been praying to my  ancestors that you might be
spared. Now  if you  can but escape  this hateful place. Have  you a plan?"

"We have  a plan that with the help of Phao  here may prove successful. Nur
An, of whom I  told you, is hiding in a closet in  one of the apartments of
the  little  prince.  We  shall  return  to  that apartment  at  the  first
opportunity and here Phao  will hide all three of us until some opportunity
for escape presents itself."

"And we should lose no more time in returning," said Phao. "Come, let us go
at once."

As we  turned toward the panel  through which we had  entered I saw that it
was ajar,  though I was confident that Phao had closed  it after us when we
entered and  simultaneously I could have  sworn that I saw  an eye glued to
the narrow  crack, as though someone  watched us from the  dark interior of
the secret corridor.

In a single  bound I was across the room and had  drawn the panel aside. My
sword was  ready in my hand,  but there was no  one in the corridor beyond.

Seven

                                 THE DEATH

WITH PHAO IN THE  LEAD and Tavia between us, we traversed the dark corridor
back toward the apartment of Yo Seno. When we reached the panel marking the
end of  our journey, Phao halted and together  we listened intently for any
sound that  might evidence the presence of an  occupant in the room beyond.
All was silent as the tomb.

"I believe," said Phao, "that it will be safer if you and Tavia remain here
until night.  I shall return to my apartment and go  about my duties in the
usual manner  and after the palace  has quieted down, these  levels will be
almost  deserted; then  I  can come  and get  you with  far less  danger of
detection than were I to take you to the apartment now."

We  agreed  that her  plan  was  a good  one,  and bidding  us a  temporary
farewell, she  opened the  panel sufficiently to  permit her to  survey the
apartment  beyond.  It was  quite  empty.  She stepped  from the  corridor,
closing the panel behind  her, and once again Tavia and I were plunged into
darkness.

The  long hours of  our wait in  the darkness  of the corridor  should have
seemed interminable, but they  did not. We made ourselves as comfortable as
possible upon  the floor, our backs against one  of the walls, and, leaning
close together  so that  we might converse  in low whispers,  we found more
entertainment than I should have guessed possible, both in our conversation
and in  the long silences that  broke it, so that it  really did not seem a
long time  at all before  the panel was swung  open and we saw  Phao in the
subdued light of the  apartment beyond. She motioned us to follow her, and,
in  silence, we  obeyed. The  corridor beyond  the chamber  of Yo  Seno was
deserted, as also was  the ramp leading to the level below and the corridor
upon which  it opened. Fortune seemed  to favor us at  every step and there
was  a prayer of  thanksgiving upon my  lips as  Phao pushed open  the door
leading  into  the  apartment  of the  prince  and  motioned  us to  enter.

But at  the same  instant my heart  sank within me,  for, as  I entered the
apartment with Tavia, I  saw warriors standing upon either side of the room
awaiting  us. With  an exclamation of  warning I  drew Tavia behind  me and
backed quickly toward the  door, but as I did so I heard a rush of feet and
the clank of accoutrements  in the corridor behind me, and, casting a quick
glance over  my shoulder, I saw other warriors  running from the doorway of
an apartment upon the opposite side of the corridor.

We were  surrounded. We were lost,  and my first thought  was that Phao had
betrayed us, leading us into this trap from which there could be no escape.
They hustled  us back  into the room  and surrounded us, and  for the first
time I saw Yo  Seno. He stood there, a sneering grin upon his face, and but
for the fact that  Tavia had assured me that he had not harmed her I should
have leaped upon him there, though a dozen swords had been at my vitals the
next instant.

"So!" sneered Yo Seno.  "You thought to fool me, did you? Well, I am not so
easily fooled. I guessed  the truth and I followed you through the corridor
and overheard  all your plans as you discussed  them with the woman, Tavia.
We have  you all now," and  turning to one of  the warriors, he motioned to
the closet  upon the  opposite side of  the chamber. "Fetch  the other," he
commanded.

The fellow crossed to the door and, opening it, revealed Nur An lying bound
and gagged upon the floor.

"Cut his  bonds and remove the  gag," ordered Yo Seno.  "It is too late now
for   him  to   thwart  my   plans  by   giving  the  others   a  warning."

Nur An  came toward  us, with a  firm step, his  head high and  a glance of
haughty contempt for our captors.

The four  of us  stood facing Yo Seno,  the sneer upon whose  face had been
replaced by a glare of hatred.

"You have  been sentenced to die The Death," he said.  "It is the death for
spies. No  more terrible  punishment can be  inflicted. Could there  be, it
would be  meted to you two,"  as he looked first at me  and then at Nur An,
"that  you  might  suffer  more  for  the  murder  of  our  two  comrades."

So  they  had found  the  warriors we  had  dispatched. Well,  what of  it?
Evidently  it had  not rendered  our position  any worse  than it  had been
before. We  were to  die The Death and  that was the worst  that they could
accord us.

"Have you anything to say?" demanded Yo Seno.

"We still live" I exclaimed, and laughed in his face.

"Before long you will be beseeching your first ancestors for death," hissed
the keeper of the keys, "but you will not have death too soon, and remember
that no one knows how long it takes to die The Death. We cannot add to your
physical suffering, but for the torment of your mind let me remind you that
we are  sending you to The Death without letting you  know what the fate of
your  accomplices   will  be,"  and  he   nodded  toward  Tavia  and  Phao.

That was  a nice point, well  chosen. He could not  have hit upon any means
more certain  to inflict acute torture  upon me than this,  but I would not
give  him the  satisfaction  of witnessing  my true  emotion, and  so, once
again, I  laughed in his face. His patience had  about reached the limit of
its endurance, for he  turned abruptly to a padwar of the guard and ordered
him to remove us at once.

As we  were hustled from the room, Nur An called  a brave good-bye to Phao.

"Good-bye,   Tavia!"  I   cried,  "and   remember  that  we   still  live."

"We still  live, Hadron of Hastor!"  she called back. "We  still live!" and
then she was swept  from my view as we were pushed along down the corridor.

Down  ramp after  ramp we  were conducted  to the  uttermost depths  of the
palace pits and then into a great chamber where I saw Haj Osis sitting upon
a throne,  surrounded again by his chiefs and his  courtiers as he had been
upon the occasion that  he had interviewed me. Opposite the Jed, and in the
middle of the chamber, hung a great iron cage, suspended from a heavy block
set in  the ceiling.  Into this cage  we were roughly pushed;  the door was
closed and secured with  a large lock. I wondered what it was all about and
what this had to do with The Death, and while I wondered a dozen men pushed
a  huge  trap door  from  beneath  the cage.  A  rush of  cold, clammy  air
enveloped us  and I experienced a chill that seemed  to enter my marrow, as
though  I lay  in  the cold  arms of  death. Hollow  moans and  groans came
faintly to my  ears and I knew that we were above  the pits where The Death
lay.

No word was spoken within the chamber, but at a signal from Haj Osis strong
men lowered the cage slowly into the aperture beneath us. Here the cold and
the damp  were more obvious and penetrating  than before, while the ghastly
sounds appeared to redouble in volume.

Down, down we slid  into an abyss of darkness. The horror of the silence in
the chamber above was forgotten in the horror of the pandemonium of uncanny
sounds that rose from beneath.

How far we were  lowered thus I may not even guess, but to Nur An it seemed
at  least  a  thousand  feet and  then  we  commenced  to  detect a  slight
luminosity about  us. The  moaning and the  groaning had become  a constant
roar. As we approached,  it seemed less like moans and groans and more like
the sound of wind and rushing waters.

Suddenly,  without the  slightest warning,  the bottom  of the  cage, which
evidently must  have been  hinged upon one  side, and held by  a catch that
could be sprung from  above, swung downward. It happened so quickly that we
hardly had  time for conjecture before we  were plunged into rushing water.

As I  rose to the surface I discovered that I  could see. Wherever we were,
it  was  not shrouded  in  impenetrable  darkness, but  was lighted  dimly.

Almost  immediately Nur  An's head  bobbed up  at arm's  length from  me. A
strong current was bearing us onward and I realized at once that we were in
the grip of a  great underground river, one of those to which the remaining
waters  of  dying  Barsoom  have receded.  In  the  distance  I descried  a
shoreline dimly  visible in the subdued  light, and, shouting to  Nur An to
follow me, I struck out toward it. The water was cold, but not sufficiently
so  to alarm  me and  I had  no doubt  but that  we would reach  the shore.

By the  time that we had  attained our goal and  crawled out upon the rocky
shore, our eyes had become accustomed to the dim light of the interior, and
now, with  astonishment, we  gazed about us.  What a vast  cavern! Far, far
above  us its  ceiling was discernible  in the  light of the  minute radium
particles  with  which the  rock  that  formed its  walls  and ceiling  was
impregnated, but  the opposite bank  of the rushing torrent  was beyond the
range of our vision.

"So this is The Death!" exclaimed Nur An.

"I doubt if they  know what it is themselves," I replied. "From the roaring
of  the river  and the moaning  of the  wind, they have  conjured something
horrible in their own imaginations."

"Perhaps the  greatest suffering  that the victim  must endure lies  in his
anticipation  of  what  awaits  him  in  these  seemingly  horrid  depths,"
suggested Nur An, "whereas  the worst that realization might bring would be
death by drowning."

"Or by starvation," I suggested.

Nur An  nodded. "Nevertheless,"  he said, I  wish I might  return just long
enough to  mock them and  witness their disappointment when  they find that
The Death is not so horrible after all."

"What a  mighty river," he added  after a moment's silence.  "Could it be a
tributary of Iss?"

"Perhaps it is Iss herself," I said.

"Then we  are bound upon the  last long pilgrimage down  to the lost sea of
Korus in the valley  Dor," said Nur An gloomily. "It may be a lovely place,
but I do not wish to go there yet."

"It is a place of horror," I replied.

"Hush," he cautioned; "that is sacrilege."

"It is  sacrilege no longer since John Carter  and Tars Tarkas snatched the
veil  of secrecy from  the valley Dor  and disposed  of the myth  of Issus,
Goddess of Life Eternal."  Even after I had told him the whole tragic story
of the  false gods of Mars,  Nur An remained skeptical,  so closely are the
superstitions   of  religion   woven  into   every  fiber  of   our  being.

We were both a  trifle fatigued after our battle with the strong current of
the  river, and  perhaps,  too, we  were suffering  from reaction  from the
nervous shock  of the  ordeal through which  we had passed.  So we remained
there, resting upon the rocky shore of the river of mystery. Eventually our
conversation  turned to  what was uppermost  in the  minds of both  and yet
which  each   hesitated  to  mention   –  the  fate  of   Tavia  and  Phao.

I wish that they,  too, had been sentenced to The Death," I said, "for then
at least we might be with them and protect them."

I am  afraid that we shall  never see them again,"  said Nur An gloomingly.
"What a  cruel fate  that I should have  found Phao only to  lose her again
irretrievably so quickly."

"It is  indeed a strange trick of fate that after  Tul Axtar stole her from
you, he  should have  lost her too,  and then that  you should  find her in
Tjanath."

He looked  at me with a  slightly puzzled expression for  a Moment and then
his face cleared. "Phao  is not the woman of whom I told you in the dungeon
at Tjanath,"  he said.  "Phao I loved  long before; she was  my first love.
After I lost  her I thought that I never could care  for a woman again, but
this other one came into my life and, knowing that Phao was gone forever, I
found some  consolation in my new love, but I realize  now that was not the
same,  that  no love  could  ever displace  that  which I  felt for  Phao."

"You lost  her irretrievably once  before," I reminded him,  "but you found
her again; perhaps you will find her once more."

"I wish that I might share your optimism," he said.

"We have little else to buoy us up," I reminded him.

"You are  right," he said, and  then with a laugh,  added, "we still live!"

Presently, feeling rested, we set out along the shore in the direction that
the river ran,  for we had decided that that would be  our course if for no
other reason than that it would be easier going down hill than up. Where it
would lead,  we had  not the slightest  idea; perhaps to  Korus; perhaps to
Omean,  the   buried  sea   where  lay  the   ships  of  the   First  Born.

Over tumbled  rock masses we clambered and  along level stretches of smooth
gravel we  pursued our rather  aimless course, knowing not  whither we were
going, having  no goal toward  which to strive. There  was some vegetation,
weird and grotesque, but  almost colorless for want of sunlight. There were
tree-like  plants with strange,  angular branches  that snapped off  at the
lightest  touch, and  as  the trees  did not  look  like trees,  there were
blossoms that did not look like flowers. It was a world as unlike the outer
world   as   the   figments    of   imagination   are   unlike   realities.

But whatever  musing upon  the flora of  this strange land I  may have been
indulging in was brought to a sudden termination as we rounded the shoulder
of a jutting promontory and came face to face with as hideous a creature as
ever I had laid  my eyes upon. It was a great white lizard with gaping jaws
large enough to engulf a man at a single swallow. At sight of us it emitted
an angry hiss and advanced menacingly toward us.

Being unarmed and absolutely at the mercy of any creature that attacked us,
we pursued the only plan that our intelligence could dictate – we retreated
–   and  I   am   not  ashamed   to  admit   that  we   retreated  rapidly.

Running quickly around the  end of the promontory, we turned sharply up the
bank away  from the river. The  bottom of the cavern  rose sharply and as I
clambered upward  I glanced behind  me occasionally to note  the actions of
our pursuer.  He was now in plain sight, having  followed us around the end
of the  promontory and there he stood looking about  as though in search of
us. Though we were  not far from him, he did not seem to see us, and I soon
became convinced  that his eyesight  was faulty; but not  wishing to depend
upon this  I kept  on climbing until  presently we came  to the  top of the
promontory, and,  looking down  upon the other  side, I saw  a considerable
stretch of  smooth gravel, stretching  out into the dim  distance along the
river shore. If we  could clamber down the opposite side of the barrier and
reach  this  level stretch  of  gravel, I  felt  that we  might escape  the
attentions  of the  huge monster. A  final glance  at him showed  him still
standing, peering  first in one direction and then  in another as though in
search of us.

Nur An  had followed close behind  me and now together  we slipped over the
edge of the escarpment,  and, though the rough rocks scratched us severely,
we finally reached the  gravel below, whereupon, having eluded our menacer,
we set  out upon a brisk  run down the river.  We had covered scarcely more
than fifty paces when  Nur An stumbled over an obstacle and as I stooped to
give  him a  hand up, I  saw that the  thing that  had tripped him  was the
rotting harness of  a warrior and a moment later I saw  the hilt of a sword
protruding from  the gravel. Seizing it, I wrenched  it from the ground. It
was a good long sword and I may tell you that the feel of it in my hand did
more  to  restore  my  self-confidence  than  aught else  that  might  have
transpired.  Being  made  of  noncorrosive  metal, as  are  all  Barsoomian
weapons,  it  remained as  sound  today  as the  moment  that  it had  been
abandoned by its owner.

"Look,"  said Nur  An,  pointing, and  there at  a  little distance  we saw
another harness  and another sword. This time there  were two, a long sword
and a  short sword,  and these Nur  An took. No  longer did we  run. I have
always felt that there  is little upon Barsoom that two well-armed warriors
need run from.

As we continued along  our way across the level stretch of gravel we sought
to solve  the mystery of these abandoned weapons,  a mystery that was still
further heightened by our discovery of many more. In some cases the harness
had rotted  away entirely,  leaving nothing but  the metal parts,  while in
others it  was comparatively sound and new.  Presently we discerned a white
mound ahead of us, but in the dim light of the cavern we could not at first
determine of  what it consisted. When  we did, we were  filled with horror,
for the  white mound was of the bones and skulls  of human beings. Then, at
last, I thought I  had an explanation of the abandoned harness and weapons.
This was the lair of the great lizard. Here he took his toll of the unhappy
creatures that  passed down  the river, but  how was it that  armed men had
come here. We had  been cast into the cavern unarmed, as I was positive all
of the condemned prisoners  of Tjanath must have been. From whence came the
others? I do not  know, doubtless I shall never know. It was a mystery from
the first. It will remain a mystery to the last.

As we passed on we found harness and weapons scattered all about, but there
was infinitely more harness than weapons.

I had added a good short sword to my equipment, as well as a dagger, as had
also  Nur An, and  I was stooping  to examine  another weapon which  we had
found –  a short sword with a beautifully ornamented  hilt and guard – when
Nur An suddenly voiced an exclamation of warning.

"On guard," he cried, "Hadron! It comes!"

Leaping to my feet,  I wheeled about, the short sword still in my hand, and
there, bearing  down upon us at considerable  speed and with wide distended
jaws,  came the  great  white lizard  hissing ominously.  He was  a hideous
sight, a  sight such as to  make even a brave man turn  and run, which I am
now convinced is what practically all of his victims did; but here were two
who did  not run. Perhaps he was so close that  we realized the futility of
flight without giving the  matter conscious thought, but be that as it may,
we stood here – Nur An with his long sword in his hand, I with the ornately
carved short  sword that I had been  examining, though instantly I realized
that it  was not the weapon with which to  defend myself against this great
hulking brute.

Yet I  could not bear to  waste a weapon already  in my hand, especially in
view  of an  accomplishment  of mine  in which  I took  considerable pride.

In  Helium,  both officers  and  men  often wager  large  amounts upon  the
accuracy with which they  can hurl daggers and short swords and I have seen
considerable sums change hands within an hour, but so proficient was I that
I had  added considerably  to my pay  through my winning until  my fame had
spread to such an  extent that I could find no one willing to pit his skill
against mine.

Never had I hurled  a weapon with a more fervent prayer for the accuracy of
my throw than now as I launched the short sword swiftly at the mouth of the
oncoming lizard.  It was not a  good throw. It would  have lost me money in
Helium, but in this instance, I think, it saved my life. The sword, instead
of  speeding in  a straight line,  point first,  as it should  have, turned
slowly  upward until  it  was travelling  at an  angle of  about forty-five
degrees, with  the point forward  and downward. In this  position the point
struck just inside of  the lower jaw of the creature, while the heavy hilt,
carried forward  by its own momentum,  lodged in the roof  of the monster's
mouth.

Instantly it  was helpless; the point  of the sword had  passed through its
tongue into the bony  substance of its lower jaw, while the hilt was lodged
in its upper jaw  behind its mighty fangs. It could not dislodge the sword,
either forward or backward, and for an instant it halted in hissing dismay,
and simultaneously  Nur An  and I leaped  to opposite sides  of its ghastly
white body. It tried to defend itself with its tail and talons, but we were
too quick  for it and  presently it was lying  in a pool of  its own purple
blood   in  the   final   spasmodic  muscular   reaction  of   dissolution.

There was  something peculiarly  disgusting and loathsome  about the purple
blood of  the creature, not only in its appearance,  but in its odor, which
was almost nauseating, and  Nur An and I lost no time in quitting the scene
of our  victory. At  the river we  washed our blades and  then continued on
upon our fruitless quest.

As we had  washed our blades we had noticed fish in  the river and after we
had put  sufficient distance between the lair  of the lizard and ourselves,
we determined to bend our energies for awhile toward filling our larder and
our stomachs.

Neither one  of us had  ever caught a fish  or eaten one, but  we knew from
history  that  they  could  be caught  and  that  they  were edible.  Being
swordsmen,  we  naturally  looked  to our  swords  as  the  best means  for
procuring our  flesh and so we waded into the  river with drawn long swords
prepared to  slaughter fish  to our heart's  content, but wherever  we went
there was no fish. We could see them elsewhere, but not within reach of our
swords.

"Perhaps," said  Nur An, "fish are not such fools  as they appear. They may
see us approaching and question our motive."

"I  can readily  believe that you  are right,"  I replied. "Suppose  we try
strategy."

"How?" he asked.

"Come with  me," I  said, "and return  to the bank." After  a little search
down stream I found  a rocky ledge overhanging the river. "We will lie here
at intervals,"  I said,  "with only our  eyes and the points  of our swords
over the edge  of the bank. We must not talk or  move, lest we frighten the
fish. Perhaps in this way we shall procure one," for I had long since given
up the idea of a general slaughter.

To my gratification my plan worked and it was not long before we each had a
large fish.

Naturally, like  other men, we prefer our  flesh cooked, but being warriors
we were accustomed to it either way, and so we broke our long fast upon raw
fish from the river of mystery.

Both  Nur An  and I felt  greatly refreshed  and strengthened by  our meal,
however unpalatable it might  have been. It had been some time since we had
slept and  though we had no idea whether it was  still night upon the outer
surface of Barsoom, or  whether dawn had already broken, we decided that it
would be  best for us  to sleep and so  Nur An stretched out  where we were
while I  watched. After he awoke, I took my turn.  I think that neither one
of us slept more than a single zode, but the rest did us quite as much good
as the food that we had eaten and I am sure that I have never felt more fit
than   I  did   when  we   set  out   again  upon  our   goalless  journey.

I do not  know how long we had been travelling after  our sleep, for by now
the journey  was most  monotonous, there being  little change in  the dimly
seen landscape surrounding us  and only the ceaseless roar of the river and
the howling of the wind to keep us company.

Nur An  was the first to  discern the change; he  seized my arm and pointed
ahead. I  must have been walking  with my eyes upon  the ground in front of
me, else I must have seen what he saw simultaneously.

"It is daylight," I exclaimed. "It is the sun."

"It can be nothing else," he said.

There, far ahead of  us, lay a great archway of light. That was all that we
could see from the  point at which we discovered it, but now we hastened on
almost at a run,  so anxious were we for a solution, so hopeful that it was
indeed the  sunlight and that  in some inexplicable and  mysterious way the
river had  found its way to the surface of Barsoom.  I knew that this could
not  be  true  and  Nur An  knew  it,  and  yet  each  knew  how great  his
disappointment  would be when  the true  explanation of the  phenomenon was
revealed.

When we approached the great patch of light it became more and more evident
that the  river had broken from its dark cavern out  into the light of day,
and when  we reached  the edge of that  mighty portal we looked  out upon a
scene  that  filled  our  hearts  with  warmth  and  gladness,  for  there,
stretching before us,  lay a valley – a small valley it  is true – a valley
hemmed in,  as far as we  could see, by mighty cliffs,  but yet a valley of
life  and  fertility  and  beauty bathed  in  the  hot  light  of the  sun.

"It is not quite  the surface of Barsoom," said Nur An, "but it is the next
best thing."

"And there must be  a way out," I said. "There must be. If there is not, we
will make one."

"Right you  are, Hadron of Hastor,"  he cried. "We will  make a way. Come!"

Before us  the banks of the roaring river  were lined with lush vegetation;
great  trees  raised  their  leafy  branches  far  above  the  waters;  the
brilliant, scarlet  sward was lapped by  the little wavelets and everywhere
bloomed gorgeous  flowers and  shrubs of many  hues and shapes.  Here was a
vegetation such  as I  had never seen  before upon the  surface of Barsoom.
Here  were forms  similar to  those with  which I  was familiar  and others
totally  unknown to  me,  yet all  were lovely,  though some  were bizarre.

Emerging,  as we had,  from the dark  and gloomy  bowels of the  earth, the
scene before  us presented a view of  wondrous beauty, and, while doubtless
enhanced by contrast, it was nevertheless such an aspect as is seldom given
to the  eyes, of a  Barsoomian of today to  view. To me it  seemed a little
garden spot  upon a dying world preserved from  an ancient era when Barsoom
was young and meteorological conditions were such as to favor the growth of
vegetation that  has since become extinct  over practically the entire area
of  the  planet. In  this  deep  valley, surrounded  by  lofty cliffs,  the
atmosphere doubtless  was considerably denser than  upon the surface of the
planet above. The sun's  days were reflected by the lofty escarpment, which
must  also  hold the  heat  during the  colder  periods of  night, and,  in
addition to  this, there was ample water  for irrigation which nature might
easily have achieved through percolation of the waters of the river through
and beneath the top soil of the valley.

For several  minutes Nur An and I stood  spellbound by the bewitching view,
and then, espying luscious fruit hanging in great clusters from some of the
trees, and  bushes loaded with berries we  subordinated the esthetic to the
corporeal  and  set forth  to  supplement our  meal  of raw  fish with  the
exquisite offerings which hung so temptingly before us.

As  we started  to  move through  the vegetation  we  became aware  of thin
threads of a gossamerlike substance festooned from tree to tree and bush to
bush. So  fine as  to be almost  invisible, yet they  were so  strong as to
impede our progress. It  was surprisingly difficult to break them, and when
there were a dozen or more at a time barring our way, we found it necessary
to use our daggers to cut a way through them.

We had  taken only a few steps into the  deeper vegetation, cutting our way
through  the  gossamer  strands,  when we  were  confronted  by  a new  and
surprising obstacle to our  advance – a large, venomous-looking spider that
scurried toward  us in an inverted position, clinging  with a dozen legs to
one  of the  gossamer strands,  which served  both as  its support  and its
pathway, and  if its appearance was any index  to its venomousness it must,
indeed, have been a deadly insect.

As  it came  toward  me, apparently  with the  most sinister  intentions, I
hastily returned  my dagger to its  scabbard and drew my  short sword, with
which I struck at  the fearsome looking creature. As the blow descended, it
drew back so that  my point only slightly scratched it, whereupon it opened
its hideous mouth and emitted a terrific scream so out of proportion to its
size and  to the nature of  such insects with which  I was familiar that it
had  a most  appalling  effect upon  my  nerves. Instantly  the scream  was
answered  by  an  unearthly  chorus  of  similar  cries all  about  us  and
immediately  a swarm  of these  horrid insects  came racing toward  us upon
their  gossamer threads. Evidently  this was  the only position  which they
assumed  in moving about  and their webs  the only  means to that  end, for
their twelve legs grew  upward from their backs, giving them a most uncanny
appearance.

Fearing  that the  creatures  might be  poisonous, Nur  An and  I retreated
hastily to the mouth  of the cavern, and as the spiders could not go beyond
the ends  of their threads, we  were soon quite safe  from them and now the
luscious fruit looked more tempting than ever, since it seemed to be denied
to us.

"The road down the river is well guarded," said Nur An with a rueful smile,
"which might indicate a most desirable goal."

"At present  that fruit is the most desirable thing in  the world to me," I
replied, "and  I am going to  try to discover some  means of obtaining it."

Moving to the right, away from the river, I sought for an entrance into the
forest that  would be free from the threads of  the spiders and presently I
came to  a point  where there was  a well-defined trail about  four or five
feet wide,  apparently cut by man from the  vegetation. Across the mouth of
it, however,  were strung thousands of gossamer  strands. To touch them, we
knew, would  be the signal for  myriads of the angry  spiders to swarm upon
us.  While our  greatest fear  was, of  course, that  the insects  might be
poisonous, their  cruelly fanged  mouths also suggested  that, poisonous or
not,  they  might  in   their  great  numbers  constitute  a  real  menace.

"Do  you notice,"  I said  to Nur  An, "that  these threads  seem stretched
across the  entrance to the pathway only. Beyond  them I cannot detect any,
though of course they are so tenuous that they might defy one's vision even
at a short distance."

"I do not  see any spiders here," said Nur An. "Perhaps  we can cut our way
through with impunity at this point."

"We shall experiment," I said, drawing my long sword.

Advancing, I  cut a few strands, when immediately  there swarmed out of the
trees  and bushes  upon either  side great  companies of the  insects, each
racing along  its own individual strand. Where  the strands were intact the
creatures  crossed  and  recrossed  the trail,  staring  at  us with  their
venomous, beady  eyes, their  powerful, gleaming fangs  bared threateningly
toward us.

The cut  strands floated in the  air until borne down  by the weight of the
approaching spiders  who followed to the severed  ends but no further. Here
they either hung glaring at us or else clambered up and down excitedly, but
not one of them ever ventured from his strand.

As I  watched them, their antics suggested a  plan. "They are helpless when
their web  is severed,"  I said to Nur  An. "Therefore if we  cut all their
webs they  cannot reach  us." Whereupon, advancing,  I swung my  long sword
above my head and cut downward through the remaining strands. Instantly the
creatures set up their infernal screaming. Several of them, torn from their
webs by the blow of my sword, lay upon the ground upon their bellies, their
feet sticking  straight up into the air.  They seemed utterly helpless, and
though  they screamed loudly  and frantically  waved their legs,  they were
clearly  unable to  move; nor could  those hanging,  at either side  of the
trail reach  us. With my sword  I destroyed those that  lay in the path and
then, followed by Nur  An, I entered the forest. Ahead of us I could see no
webs; the way seemed  clear, but before we advanced further into the forest
I turned  about to have a last look at the  discomfited insects to see what
they  might  be about.  They  had  stopped screaming  now  and were  slowly
returning into the foliage, evidently to their lairs, and as they seemed to
offer no  further menace  we continued upon  our way. The  trees and bushes
along the  pathway were  innocent of fruit  or berries, though  just beyond
reach we saw them  growing in profusion, behind a barrier of those gossamer
webs that we had so quickly learned to avoid.

"This   trail  appears   to  have   been  made   by  man,"  said   Nur  An.

"Whoever  made it,  or  when," I  said, "there  is no  doubt but  that some
creature still uses it.  The absence of fruit along it would alone be ample
proof of that."

We moved cautiously along  the winding trail, not knowing at what moment we
might  be confronted  by  some new  menace in  the  form of  man  or beast.
Presently we  saw ahead of us what appeared to be  an opening in the forest
and a moment later  we emerged into a clearing. Looming in front of us at a
distance of perhaps less than a haad was a towering pile of masonry. It was
a gloomy  pile, apparently  built of black  volcanic rock. For  some thirty
feet  above the  ground there  was a  blank wall,  pierced by but  a single
opening – a small  doorway almost directly in front of us. This part of the
structure  appeared to  be a well,  beyond it  rose buildings of  weird and
grotesque outlines and dominating all was a lofty tower, from the summit of
which a wisp of smoke curled upward into the quiet air.

From this new vantage  point we had a better view of the valley than had at
first  been  accorded  us,  and  now,  more  marked  than  ever,  were  the
indications  that it  was  the crater  of  some gigantic  and long  extinct
volcano. Between us and the buildings, which suggested a small walled city,
the clearing  contained a few scattered  trees, but most of  the ground was
given  over to  cultivation, being  traversed by  irrigation ditches  of an
archaic  type which  has  been abandoned  upon the  surface for  many ages,
having been  superseded by  a system of subirrigation  when the diminishing
water   supply  necessitated   the   adoption  of   conservation  measures.

Satisfied that no further information could be gained by remaining where we
were, I  started boldly into the  clearing toward the city.  "Where are you
going?" asked Nur An.

I am  going to find out who dwells in that  gloomy place," I replied. "Here
are fields and gardens,  so they must have food and that, after all, is the
only favor that I shall ask of them."

Nur An shook his head. "The very sight of the place depresses me," he said.
But he came with  me as I knew he would, for Nur An is a splendid companion
upon whose loyalty one may always depend.

We  had traversed  about  two-thirds of  the distance  across  the clearing
toward the  city before  we saw any  signs of life  and then  a few figures
appeared at the top of the wall above the entrance. They carried long, thin
scarfs, which  they seemed to be  waving in greeting to  us and when we had
come  yet closer I  saw that they  were young  women. They leaned  over the
parapet and smiled and beckoned to us.

As we came within speaking distance below the wall, I halted. "What city is
this," I asked, "and who is jed here?"

"Enter, warriors,"  cried one  of the girls,  "and we will lead  you to the
jed."  She  was very  pretty  and  she was  smiling  sweetly,  as were  her
companions.

"This is not such a depressing place as you thought," I said in a low voice
to Nur An.

"I  was mistaken,"  said  Nur An.  "They seem  to  be a  kindly, hospitable
people. Shall we enter?"

"Come," called  another of the  girls; "behind these gloomy  walls lie food
and wine and love."

Food! I would have  entered a far more forbidding place than this for food.

As Nur  An and  I strode toward the  small door, it slowly  withdrew to one
side. Beyond, across a black paved avenue, rose buildings of black volcanic
rock. The  avenue seemed deserted as we stepped  within. We beard the faint
click of  a lock as the  door slid into place behind us  and I had a sudden
foreboding of  ill that made my right hand seek the  hilt of my long sword.

Eight

                            THE SPIDER OF GHASTA

FOR A MOMENT we  stood undecided in the middle of the empty avenue, looking
about us, and then our attention was attracted to a narrow stairway running
up the inside of  the wall, upon the summit of which the girls had appeared
and welcomed us.

Down  the stairway  the girls were  coming. There  were six of  them. Their
beautiful faces  were radiant  with happy smiles of  welcome that instantly
dispelled the  gloom of the dark surroundings  as the rising sun dissipates
night's  darkness  and  replaces  her shadows  with  light  and warmth  and
happiness.

Beautifully  wrought   harness,  enriched   by  many  a   sparkling  jewel,
accentuated  the  loveliness of  faultless  figures. As  they approached  a
vision of Tavia sprang  to my mind. Beautiful as these girls unquestionably
were, how much more beautiful was Tavia!

I recall distinctly, even  now, that in that very instant with all that was
transpiring to distract my  attention, I was suddenly struck by wonder that
it should have been Tavia's face and figure that I saw rather than those of
Sanoma Tora. You may believe that I brought myself up with a round turn and
thereafter  it was  a  vision of  Sanoma Tora  that I  saw, and  that, too,
without any disloyalty to my friendship for Tavia – that blessed friendship
which I  looked upon as one  of my proudest and  most valuable possessions.

As the  girls reached the  pavement they came eagerly  toward us. "Welcome,
warriors," cried one, "to happy Ghasta. After your long journey you must be
hungry. Come  with us  and you shall be  fed, but first the  great jed will
wish to  greet you and welcome you to our city,  for visitors to Ghasta are
few."

As  they  led  us along  the  avenue  I could  not  but  note the  deserted
appearance  of  the city.  There  was  no sign  of  life about  any of  the
buildings that  we passed nor did  we see another human  being until we had
come  to an  open  plaza, in  the center  of which  rose a  mighty building
surmounted by  the lofty tower that we had seen  when we first emerged from
the  forest. Here  we saw  a number of  people, both  men and women  – sad,
dejected looking  people, who moved with  bent shoulders and downcast eyes.
There was  no animation in their step and  their whole demeanor seemed that
of utter hopelessness. What  a contrast they presented to the gay and happy
girls  who so  joyously conducted  us toward  the main  entrance of  what I
assumed to  be the palace of the jed. Here, burly  warriors were on guard –
fat, oily looking fellows, whose appearance was not at all to my liking. As
we approached them an officer emerged from the interior of the building. If
possible, he  was even fatter and more greasy looking  than his men, but he
smiled and bowed as he welcomed us.

"Greetings!" he  exclaimed. "May the peace of  Ghasta be upon the strangers
who enter her gates."

"Send word to Ghron, the great jed," said one of the girls to him, "that we
are  bringing two  strange  warriors who  wish to  do  honor to  him before
partaking of the hospitality of Ghasta."

As the  officer dispatched  a warrior to  notify the jed of  our coming, we
were  escorted  into  the  interior of  the  palace.  The furnishings  were
striking, but extremely fantastic  in design and execution. The native wood
of  the forests  had been  used to  fine advantage  in the  construction of
numerous  pieces of beautifully  carved furniture,  the grain of  the woods
showing lustrously  in their various natural  colors, the beauties of which
were  sometimes accentuated  by delicate  stain and  by high  polishes, but
perhaps  the most  striking  feature of  the interior  decorations  was the
gorgeously painted  fabric that  covered the walls  and ceilings. It  was a
fabric of unbelievable lightness, which gave the impression of spun silver.
So closely woven was  it that, as I was to learn later, it would hold water
and  of such  great  strength that  it was  almost  impossible to  tear it.

Upon it  were painted  in brilliant colors  the most fantastic  scenes that
imagination might conceive. There  were spiders with the heads of beautiful
women, and  women with the heads  of spiders. There were  flowers and trees
that  danced beneath a  great red sun,  and great  lizards, such as  we had
passed within  the gloomy cavern on  our journey down from  Tjanath. In all
the figures that were  depicted there was nothing represented as nature had
created  it.  It was  as  though some  mad  mind had  conceived the  whole.

As we waited  in the great entrance hall of the palace  of the jed, four of
the  girls danced for  our entertainment –  a strange  dance such as  I had
never before  seen upon Barsoom. Its steps and  movements were as weird and
fantastic as  the mural decorations of  the room in which  it was executed,
and  yet with  all there  was a  certain rhythm  and suggestiveness  in the
undulations  of  those  lithe  bodies that  imparted  to  us  a feeling  of
well-being and content.

The  fat and  greasy padwar  of the  guard moistened  his thick lips  as he
watched  them  and  though  he had  doubtless  seen  them  dance upon  many
occasions, he  seemed to be much more affected than  we, but perhaps he had
no Phao or Sanoma Tora to occupy his thoughts.

Sanoma Tora!  The chiseled beauty of her noble  face stood out clearly upon
the screen of memory  for a brief instant and then slowly it began to fade.
I tried  to recall  it, to see again  the short, haughty lip  and the cold,
level gaze, but it receded into a blur from which there presently emerged a
pair  of wondrous  eyes, moist  with tears,  a perfect  face and a  head of
tousled hair.

It was  then that  the warrior returned  to say that Ghron,  the Jed, would
receive us at once. Only the girls accompanied us, the fat padwar remaining
behind,  though  I  could  have  sworn  that  it was  not  through  choice.

The room  in which  the jed received  us was upon  the second  level of the
palace. It  was a  large room, even  more grotesquely decorated  than those
through which  we had passed. The furniture was  of weird shapes and sizes,
nothing harmonized  with anything else and yet the  result was a harmony of
discord that was not at all unpleasing.

The jed  sat upon  a perfectly enormous  throne of volcanic  glass. It was,
perhaps, the most ornate and remarkable piece of furniture that I have ever
seen and  was the outstanding specimen of  craftsmanship in the entire city
of Ghasta, but if  it caught my eye at the time it  was only for an instant
as nothing could for long distract one's attention from the jed himself. In
the  first glance  he  looked more  like a  hairy  ape than  a man.  He was
massively built with great, heavy, stooping shoulders and long arms covered
with shaggy, black hair,  the more remarkable, perhaps, because there is no
race of  hairy men upon Barsoom.  His face was broad  and flat and his eyes
were so far apart that they seemed literally to be set in the comers of his
face.  As we  were  halted before  him, he  twisted his  mouth into  what I
imagined at the time  was intended for a smile, but which only succeeded in
making him look more horrible than before.

As is customary, we laid our swords at his feet and announced our names and
our cities.

"Hadron of Hastor, Nur An of Jahar," he repeated. "Ghron, the Jed, welcomes
you to  Ghasta. Few  are the visitors  who find their way  to our beautiful
city. It  is an event, therefore, when  two such illustrious warriors honor
us with  a visit. Seldom do we receive word from  the outer world. Tell us,
then of your journey and of what is transpiring upon the surface of Barsoom
above us."

His words  and his  manner were those  of a most solicitous  host bent upon
extending a  proper and cordial welcome  to strangers, but I  could not rid
myself  of the belying  suggestion of  his repulsive countenance,  though I
could do  no less than play the part of  a grateful and appreciative guest.

We told  our stories  and gave him  much news of those  portions of Barsoom
with which each  of us was familiar and as Nur An  spoke, I looked about me
at the assemblage of  the great chamber. They were mostly women and many of
them  were  young  and   beautiful.  The  men,  for  the  most  part,  were
gross-looking, fat and oily,  and there were certain lines of cruelty about
their  eyes and  their mouths  that did  not escape  me, though I  tried to
attribute it  to the first depressing impression  that the black and somber
buildings   and   the   deserted  avenues   had   conveyed   to  my   mind.

When we had finished  our recitals, Ghron announced that a banquet had been
prepared  in  our honor  and  in  person he  led  the  procession from  the
throne-room down a long corridor to a mighty banquet hall, in the center of
which  stood  a  great  table,  down  the  entire  length of  which  was  a
magnificent decoration consisting entirely of the fruits and flowers of the
forest through  which we had passed. At one end of  the table was the jed's
throne and  at the other were  smaller thrones, one for  Nur An and one for
me. Seated on  either side of us were the girls who  had welcomed us to the
city   and  whose   business,  it   seemed,  now   was  to   entertain  us.

The design of the  dishes with which the table was set was quite in keeping
with all  the other  mad designs of the  palace of Ghron. No  two plates or
goblets or  platters were of the  same shape or size  or design and nothing
seemed suited to the  purpose for which it was intended. My wine was served
in a  shallow, triangular-shaped saucer,  while my meat was  crammed into a
tall, slender-stemmed  goblet. However, I was  too hungry to be particular,
and, I  hoped, too well conversant with the  amenities of polite society to
reveal the astonishment that I felt.

Here,  as in  other parts  of the  palace, the  wall coverings were  of the
gossamer-like silver fabric that  had attracted my attention and admiration
the moment  that I had entered  the building and so  fascinated was I by it
that  I could  not refrain  from mentioning it  to the  girl who sat  at my
right.

"There   is  no  such   fabric  anywhere   else  in  Barsoom,"   she  said.

"It is made here and only here."

"It  is very  beautiful," I said.  "Other nations  would pay well  for it."

"If we  could get it to  them," she said, "but  we have no intercourse with
the world above us."

"Of what is it woven?" I asked.

"When you entered the  valley Hohr," she said, "you saw a beautiful forest,
running down to the  banks of the river Syl. Doubtless you saw fruit in the
forest and, being hungry, you sought to gather it, but you were set upon by
huge spiders  that sped along  silver threads, finer than  a woman's hair."

"Yes," I said, "that is just what happened."

"It  is from this  web, spun by  those hideous  spiders, that we  weave our
fabric. It  is as strong as  leather and as enduring  as the rocks of which
Ghasta is built."

"Do   women   of   Ghasta   spin   this   wonderful   fabric?"   I   asked.

"The slaves," she said, "both men and women."

"And from  whence come your slaves?"  I asked, "if you  have no intercourse
with the upper world?"

"Many of  them come down the  river from Tjanath, where  they have died The
Death, and  there are  others who come  from further up the  river, but why
they come  or from whence we  never know. They are  silent people, who will
not tell us, and sometimes they come from down the river, but these are few
and usually are so crazed by the horrors of their journey that we can glean
no knowledge from them."

"And do any ever  go on down the river from Ghasta?" I asked; for it was in
that  direction that  Nur  An and  I hoped  to  make our  way in  search of
liberty, as deep within  me was the hope that we might reach the valley Dor
and the  lost sea of Korus,  from which I was  convinced I could escape, as
did John Carter and Tars Tarkas.

"A few,  perhaps," she said, "but we never know  what becomes of these, for
none returns."

"You are happy here?" I asked.

She forced a smile  to her beautiful lips, but I thought that a shudder ran
through her frame.

The banquet was elaborate and the food delicious. There was a great deal of
laughter at the far end of the table where the jed sat, for those about him
watched him  closely, and when he  laughed, which he always  did at his own
jokes, the others all laughed uproariously.

Toward the  end of the meal  a troupe of dancers  entered the apartment. My
first  view of  them almost  took my  breath away,  for, with but  a single
exception, they were all horribly deformed. That one exception was the most
beautiful girl I have ever seen – the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,
with the saddest face  that I have ever seen. She danced divinely and about
her hopped  and crawled  the poor, unhappy creatures  whose sad afflictions
should have made them  the objects of sympathy rather than ridicule and yet
it  was obvious that  they had been  selected for  their part for  the sole
purpose of  giving the  audience an opportunity  to vent its  ridicule upon
them.  The sight  of them  seemed to  incite Ghron  to a pitch  of frenzied
mirth, and, to add  to his own pleasure and to the discomforts of the poor,
pathetic performers, he hurled food and plates at them as they danced about
the banquet table.

I  tried  not  to look  at  them,  but there  was  a  fascination in  their
deformities which attracted my  gaze and presently it became apparent to me
that the  majority of them  were artificially deformed, that  they had been
thus broken and bent at the behest of some malign mind and as I looked down
the long board at the horrid face of Ghron, distorted by maniacal laughter,
I could not but guess the author of their disfigurement.

When at  last they were gone,  three large goblets of  wine were borne into
the  banquet ball  by a  slave; two of  them were  red goblets and  one was
black. The black goblet was set before Ghron and the red ones before Nur An
and  me.  Then Ghron  rose  and  the whole  company  followed his  example.

"Ghron, the jed, drinks  to the happiness of his honored guests," announced
the  ruler, and,  raising  the goblet  to his  lips, he  drained it  to the
bottom.

It seemed obvious that  this little ceremony would conclude the banquet and
that it was  intended Nur An and I should drink the  health of our host. I,
therefore, raised  my goblet. It was the first  time that anything had been
served to me  in the proper receptacle and I was glad  that at last I might
drink without incurring the  danger of spilling most of the contents of the
receptacle into my lap.

"To the health and power of the great jed, Ghron," I said, and following my
host's example, drained the contents of the goblet.

As Nur An followed  my example with some appropriate words, I felt a sudden
lethargy stealing over me  and in the instant before I lost consciousness I
realized that I had been given drugged wine.

When I regained consciousness I found myself lying upon the bare floor of a
room of a peculiar  shape that suggested it was the portion of the arc of a
circle lying between the  peripheries of two concentric circles. The narrow
end of  the room curved inward, the wider end outward.  In the latter was a
single, grated  window; no  door or other  openings appeared in  any of the
walls, which  were covered with the  same silver fabric that  I had noticed
upon the walls  and ceilings of the palace of the jed.  Near me lay Nur An,
evidently  still   under  the  influence  of   the  opiate  that  had  been
administered to us in the wine.

Again I looked about the room. I arose and went to the window. Far below me
I  saw the roofs  of the city.  Evidently we  were imprisoned in  the lofty
tower that  rose from the center  of the palace of the  jed, but how had we
been brought  into the room?  Certainly not through the  window, which must
have been fully two hundred feet above the city. While I was pondering this
seemingly unanswerable problem, Nur  An regained consciousness. At first he
did not speak; he just lay there looking at me with a rueful smile upon his
lips.

"Well?" I asked.

Nur  An shook his  head. "We still  live," he  said dismally, "but  that is
about the best that one may say."

"We are in the  palace of a maniac, Nur An," I said.  "There is no doubt in
my mind  as to that. Every  one here lives in  constant terror of Ghron and
from  what  I  have  seen today  they  are  warranted  in feeling  terror."

"Yet  I  believe  we   saw  little  or  nothing  at  that,"  said  Nur  An.

"I saw enough," I replied.

"Those girls were so beautiful," he said after a moment's silence. "I could
not  believe that  such beauty  and such  duplicity could  exist together."

"Perhaps they  were the  unwilling tools of  a cruel master,"  I suggested.

"I shall always like to think so," he said.

The day  waned and night fell;  no one came near us,  but in the meantime I
discovered something.  Accidentally leaning against the  wall at the narrow
end of our room  I found that it was very warm, in fact quite hot, and from
this I  inferred that  the flue of the  chimney from which we  had seen the
smoke  issuing rose through  the center of  the tower  and the wall  of the
chimney formed  the rear wall of our apartment. It  was a discovery, but at
the moment it meant nothing to us.

There  were no  lights in  our apartment,  and, as  only Cluros was  in the
heavens and  upon the opposite side of the tower,  our prison was in almost
total darkness. We were sitting in gloomy contemplation of our predicament,
each wrapped in his own unhappy thoughts, when I heard footsteps apparently
approaching  from below.  They came  nearer and  nearer until  finally they
ceased in an adjoining  apartment, seemingly the one next to ours. A moment
later there was a scraping sound and a line of light appeared at the bottom
of one of the side walls. It kept growing in width until I finally realized
that the  entire partition wall was rising. In the  opening we saw at first
the sandaled feet of  warriors, and finally, little by little, their entire
bodies  were   revealed  –   two  stalwart,  brawny   men,  heavily  armed.

They carried  manacles and  with them they  fastened our wrists  behind our
backs. They  did not speak, but  with a gesture one  of them directed us to
follow him,  and, as we filed  out of the room,  the second warrior fell in
behind us.  In silence we entered a steep,  spiral ramp, which we descended
to  the main body  of the palace,  but yet  our escorts conducted  us still
lower  until  I knew  that  we  must be  in  the pits  beneath the  palace.

The  pits! Inwardly  I shuddered.  I much  preferred the  tower for  I have
always possessed  an inherent  horror of the  pits. Perhaps these  would be
utterly dark and doubtless overrun by rats and lizards.

The ramp  ended in a gorgeously decorated  apartment in which was assembled
about the  same company of men  and women that had  partaken of the banquet
with us  earlier in the day. Here, too, was Ghron  upon a throne. This time
he did  not smile as  we entered the room.  He did not seem  to realize our
presence. He was sitting, leaning forward, his eyes fixed upon something at
the far end of  the room over which hung a deadly silence that was suddenly
shattered by a piercing  scream of anguish. The scream was but a prelude to
a series of similar cries of agony.

I  looked  quickly  in  the direction  from  which  the  screams came,  the
direction in  which Ghron's gaze was fastened. I  saw a naked woman chained
to a grill before a hot fire. Evidently they had just placed her there as I
had entered  the room and it was her first shrill  scream of agony that had
attracted my attention.

The  grill was  mounted  upon wheels  so that  it could  be removed  to any
distance from the fire  that the torturer chose, or completely turned about
presenting the other side of the victim to the blaze.

As my eyes  wandered back to the audience I saw that  most of the girls sat
there glaring straight ahead,  their eyes fixed with horror upon the horrid
scene. I  do not  believe that they enjoyed  it; I know that  they did not.
They were  equally the unwilling  victims of the cruel  vagaries of Ghron's
diseased  mind,  but  like  the poor  creature  upon  the  grill they  were
helpless.

Next to  the torture itself, the  most diabolical conceit of  the mind that
had directed it was  the utter silence enjoined upon all spectators against
the  background of  which  the shrieks  and  moans of  the tortured  victim
evidently achieved their highest  effectiveness upon the crazed mind of the
jed.

The spectacle  was sickening. I turned  my eyes away. Presently  one of the
warriors who had fetched us touched me on the arm and motioned me to follow
him.

He led  us from  this apartment to  another and there we  witnessed a scene
infinitely more  terrible than the  grilling of the human  victim. I cannot
describe  it; it tortures  my memory even  to think  of it. Long  before we
reached  that hideous  apartment  we heard  the screams  and curses  of its
inmates. In utter silence,  our guard ushered us within. It was the chamber
of horrors in which the Jed of Ghasta was creating abnormal deformities for
his cruel dance of the cripples.

Still  in silence, we  were led from  this horrid  place and now  our guide
conducted us  upward to a luxuriously  furnished apartment. Upon divans lay
two   of   the   beautiful   girls  who   had   welcomed   us  to   Ghasta.

For  the first  time since we  had left our  room in  the tower one  of our
escort broke  the silence.  "They will explain,"  he said, pointing  to the
girls. "Do  not try  to escape. There is  only one exit from  this room. We
will  be  waiting  outside.  He then  removed  our  manacles  and with  his
companion   left   the   apartment,    closing   the   door   after   them.

One of the occupants  of the room was the same girl who had sat at my right
during the  banquet. I had found  her most gracious and  intelligent and to
her I now turned.

"What is  the meaning of this? I demanded. "Why  are we made prisoners? Why
have we been brought here?"

She  beckoned me  to  come to  the divan  on  which she  reclined and  as I
approached she motioned to me to sit down beside her.

"What you  have seen tonight,"  she said, "represents the  three fates that
lie in store for  you. Ghron has taken a fancy to you  and he is giving you
your choice."

I do not yet quite understand," I said.

"You saw the victim before the grill?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Would you care to suffer that fate?"

"Scarcely."

"You  saw the  unhappy  ones being  bent and  broken for  the dance  of the
cripples," she pursued.

"I did," I answered.

"And now  you see  this luxurious room  – and me. Which  would you choose?"

"I  cannot believe,"  I  replied, "that  the final  alternative  is without
conditions, which  might make it appear less  attractive than it now seems,
for  otherwise there  could be  no possible  question as  to which  I would
chose."

"You are right," she said. "There are conditions."

"What are they?" I asked.

"You will become  an officer in the palace of the jed  and as such you will
conduct tortures  similar to  those you have  witnessed in the  pits of the
palace.  You will  be  guided by  whatever whim  may possess  your master."

I  drew   myself  to  my  full  height.  "I   choose  the  fire,"  I  said.

"I knew  that you would," she  said sadly, "and yet  I hoped that you might
not."

"It is  not because  of you," I  said quickly. "It is  the other conditions
which no man of honor could accept."

I  know," she  said,  "and had  you accepted  them  I must  eventually have
despised you as I despise the others."

"You are unhappy here?" I asked.

"Of  course," she said.  "Who but a  maniac could  be happy in  this horrid
place? There are, perhaps,  six hundred people in the city and there is not
one who  knows happiness.  A hundred of us  form the court of  the jed; the
others are slaves. As a matter of fact, we are all slaves, subject to every
mad whim or caprice of the maniac who is our master."

"And there is no escape?" I asked.

"None."

"I shall escape," I said.

"How?"

"The fire," I replied.

She shuddered. "I do not know why I should care so much," she said, "unless
it is that I liked you from the first. Even while I was helping to lure you
into the  city for the human  spider of Ghasta, I  wished that I might warn
you not to enter, but I was afraid, just as I am afraid to die. I wish that
I had your courage to escape through the fire."

I turned  to Nur An, who had been listening  to our conversation. "You have
reached your decision?" I asked.

"Certainly," he said. "There could be but one decision for a man of honor."

"Good!" I exclaimed, and then I turned to the girl. "You will notify, Ghron
of our decision?" I asked.

"Wait," she  said; "ask  for time in which  to consider it. I  know that it
will make no difference  in the end, but yet – Oh, even yet there is a germ
of  hope   within  me   that  even  utter   hopelessness  cannot  destroy."

"You are right," I said. "There is always hope. Let him think that you have
half persuaded us to accept the life of luxury and ease that he has offered
as an  alternative to death or torture, and that if  you are given a little
more time you may  succeed. In the meantime we may be able to work out some
plan of escape."

"Never," she said.

Nine

                             PHOR TAK OF JHAMA

BACK IN OUR quarters in the chimney tower, Nur An and I discussed every mad
plan of escape that entered our brains. For some reason our fetters had not
been  replaced, which gave  us at least  as much  freedom of action  as our
apartment afforded and you  may rest assured that we took full advantage of
it, examining minutely every  square inch of the floor and the walls as far
up as  we could reach, but our combined efforts  failed to reveal any means
for raising  the partition which closed the only  avenue of escape from our
prison, with  the exception of  the window which, while  heavily barred and
some  two  hundred feet  above  the  ground, was  by  no means,  therefore,
eliminated from our plans.

The heavy  vertical bars which protected  the window withstood our combined
efforts when we sought to bend them, though Nur An is a powerful man, while
I have  always been  lauded for my  unusual muscular development.  The bars
were set a little  too close together to permit our bodies to pass through,
but the removal of one of them would leave an opening of ample size; yet to
what purpose? Perhaps the same answer was in Nur An's mind that was in mine
– that  when hope was gone and the sole  alternative remaining was the fire
within the grill, we might at least cheat Ghron could we but hurl ourselves
from this high window to the ground far below.

But whatever end each of us may have had in view, he kept it to himself and
when I started digging  at the mortar at the bottom of one of the bars with
the prong of a buckle from my harness, Nur An asked no questions but set to
work similarly  upon the  mortar at the top  of the same bar.  We worked in
silence and with little fear of discovery, as no one had entered our prison
since we had been incarcerated there. Once a day the partition was raised a
few inches  and food slipped  in to us beneath  it, but we did  not see the
person who  brought it,  nor did anyone  communicate with us  from the time
that  the guards  had taken  us to the  palace that  first night up  to the
moment that we had  finally succeeded in loosening the bar so that it could
by easily removed from its seat.

I shall  never forget with what impatience we  awaited the coming of night,
that we might remove the bar and investigate the surrounding surface of the
tower, for it had  occurred to me that it might offer a means of descent to
the  ground  below,  or  rather  to  the  roof  of the  building  which  it
surmounted, from  where we might hope to make our way  to the summit of the
city wall  undetected. Already, in view of  this possibility, I had planned
to tear strips from  the fabric covering our walls wherewith to make a rope
down which  we might  lower ourselves to  the ground beyond  the city wall.

As night  approached I commenced to  realize how high I  had built my hopes
upon this idea. It  already seemed as good as accomplished, especially when
I had  utilized the possibilities of the rope  to its fullest extent, which
included making  one of sufficient length  to reach from our  window to the
bottom of the tower. Thus every obstacle was overcome. It was then, just at
dusk, that I explained my plan to Nur An.

"Fine," he  exclaimed. "Let us start  at once making our  rope. We know how
strong  this fabric is  and that a  slender strand  of it will  support our
weight.  There is  enough  upon one  wall to  make all  the rope  we need."

Success seemed  almost assured as we started to  remove the fabric from one
of the  larger walls, but here  we met with our  first obstacle. The fabric
was  fastened at the  top and at  the bottom  with large headed  nails, set
close together, which withstood our every effort to tear it loose. Thin and
light in weight, this  remarkable fabric appeared absolutely indestructible
and we were almost  exhausted by our efforts when we were finally forced to
admit defeat.

The quick  Barsoomian night had  fallen and we might  now, with comparative
safety, remove  the bar from the window and  reconnoiter for the first time
beyond the  restricted limits of our cell, but hope  was now low within our
breasts and  it was with  little anticipation of encouragement  that I drew
myself  to  the  sill  and projected  my  head  and  shoulders through  the
aperture.

Below me  lay the somber, gloomy city, its blackness  relieved by but a few
dim lights,  most of which shone faintly from  the palace windows. I passed
my  palm over the  surface of the  tower that  lay within arm's  reach, and
again  my heart sank  within me.  Smooth, almost glass-like  volcanic rock,
beautifully cut  and laid, offered  not the slightest handhold  – indeed an
insect might have found it difficult to have clung to its polished surface.

"It is quite  hopeless," I said as I drew my head  back into the room. "The
tower is as smooth as a woman's breast."

"What is above?" asked Nur An.

Again I leaned out,  this time looking upward. Just above me were the eaves
of  the  tower –  our  cell  was at  the  highest level  of the  structure.
Something impelled  me to investigate  in that direction –  an insane urge,
perhaps, born of despair.

"Hold my  ankles, Nu An," I said, "and in the  name of your first ancestor,
hold tightly!"

Clinging  to  two of  the  remaining bars  I  raised myself  to a  standing
position upon  the window ledge, while  Nur An clung to  my ankles. I could
just reach  the top of the eaves with  my extended fingers. Lowering myself
again to the  sill, I whispered to Nur An. "I am  going to attempt to reach
the roof of the tower," I exclaimed.

"Why?" he asked.

I  laughed. "I  do not know,"  I admitted,  "but something within  my inner
consciousness seems insistently to urge me on."

"If you fall," he said, "you will have escaped the fire – and I will follow
you. Good luck, my friend from Hastor!"

Once again I raised myself to a standing position upon the sill and reached
upward until  my fingers  bent above the  edge of the lofty  roof. Slowly I
drew myself  upward; below  me, two hundred  feet, lay the  palace roof and
death.  I am  very strong  – only  a very  strong man  could have  hoped to
succeed, for  I had at best but a precarious bold  upon the flat roof above
me, but, at  last, I succeeded in getting an elbow over  and then I drew my
body slowly  over the  edge until, at  last, I lay panting  upon the basalt
flagging that topped the slender tower.

Resting a  few moments,  I arose to  my feet. Mad,  passionate Thuria raced
across the  cloudless sky; Cluros, her cold  spouse, swung his aloof circle
in splendid isolation; below  me lay the valley of Hohr like some enchanted
fairyland of ancient lore;  above me frowned the beetling cliff that hemmed
in this madman's world.

A puff of hot air struck me suddenly in the face, recalling to my mind that
far below in the pits of Ghasta an orgy of torture was occurring. Faintly a
scream arose  from the black mouth of the flue  behind me. I shuddered, but
my attention was centered upon the yawning opening now and I approached it.
Almost unbearable waves of heat were billowing upward from the mouth of the
chimney. There  was little smoke,  so perfect was the  combustion, but what
there was  shot into  the air at  terrific velocity. It  almost seemed that
were  I   to  cast  myself  upon   it  I  should  be   carried  far  aloft.

It was  then that a thought  was born – a  mad, impossible idea, it seemed,
and yet it clung  to me as I lowered myself gingerly over the outer edge of
the  tower   and  finally  regained  the   greater  security  of  my  cell.

I was about  to explain my insane plan to Nur An  when I was interrupted by
sounds  from  the adjoining  chamber  and  an instant  later the  partition
started  to rise.  I  thought they  were bringing  us  food again,  but the
partition  rose  further  than  was  necessary  for  the  passing  of  food
receptacles beneath  it and a moment later we saw the  ankles and legs of a
woman beneath the base  of the rising wall. Then a girl stooped and entered
our cell.  In the light from the adjoining room I  recognized her – she who
had been  selected by  Ghron to lure  me to his  will. Her  name was Sharu.

Nur An had quickly replaced the bar on the window and when the girl entered
there was  nothing to indicate that aught was amiss, or  that one of us had
so  recently been  outside our  cell, The  partition remained  half raised,
permitting light to enter  the apartment, and the girl, looking at me, must
have noticed my gaze wandering to the adjoining room.

"Do  not let your  hopes rise," she  said with  a rueful smile.  "There are
guards waiting at the level next below."

"Why are you here, Sharu?" I asked.

"Ghron  sent  me,"  she  replied.  "He  is impatient  for  your  decision."

I thought  quickly. Our only hope  lay in the sympathy  of this girl, whose
attitude in the past  had at least demonstrated her friendliness. "Had we a
dagger and  a needle,"  I said in a  low whisper. "we could  give Ghron his
answer upon the morning of the day after tomorrow."

"What  reason can I  give him for  this further  delay?" she asked  after a
moment's thought.

"Tell him,"  said Nur  An," "that we  are communing with  our ancestors and
that upon their advice shall depend our decision."

Sharu smiled.  She drew  a dagger from its  sheath at her side  and laid it
upon the floor and from a pocket pouch attached to her harness she produced
a needle, which she laid beside the dagger. "I shall convince Ghron that it
is best to wait," she said. "My heart had hoped, Hadron of Hastor, that you
would decide to remain with me, but I am glad that I have not been mistaken
in my  estimate of your character.  You will die, my  warrior, but at least
you will die as a brave man should and undefiled. Good-bye! I look upon you
in life  for the  last time, but until  I am gathered to  my ancestors your
image shall remain enshrined within my heart."

She  was  gone; the  partition  dropped,  and again  we  were  left in  the
semi-darkness of a moonlit night, but now we had the two things that I most
desired – a dagger and a needle.

"Of what good are  those?" asked Nur An as I gathered the two articles from
the floor.

"You will see," I replied, and immediately I set to work cutting the fabric
from the  walls of our cell  and then, standing upon  Nur An's shoulders, I
removed also  that which covered the  ceiling. I worked quickly  for I knew
that we had little  time in which to accomplish that which I had set out to
do.  A   mad  scheme  it  was,   and  yet  withal  within   the  realms  of
practicability.

Working in the dark,  more by sense of feel than by sight, I must have been
inspired  by some  higher  power to  have accomplished  with any  degree of
perfection the task that I had set myself.

The balance of that night and all of the following day Nur An and I labored
without rest  until we had fashioned  an enormous bag from  the fabric that
had  covered the walls  and ceiling of  our cell  and from the  scraps that
remained we  fashioned long  ropes and when  night fell again  our task was
completed.

"May luck be with us," I said.

"The scheme is worthy of the mad brain of Ghron himself," said Nur An; "yet
it has within it the potentialities of success."

"Night  has fallen,"  I  said; "we  need not  delay  longer. Of  one thing,
however, we  may be sure, whether we succeed or  fail we shall have escaped
the  fire  and  in  either event  may  our  ancestors  look  with love  and
compassion  upon Sharu,  whose friendship  has made possible  our attempt."

"Whose love," corrected Nur An.

Once  again I  made  the perilous  ascent to  the roof,  taking one  of our
new-made ropes with me.  Then, from the summit, I lowered it to Nur An, who
fastened the  great bag to it; after which I drew  the fruits of our labors
carefully to the roof beside me. It was as light as a feather, yet stronger
than  the well-tanned  hide  of a  zitidar. Next,  I  lowered the  rope and
assisted Nur An  to my side, but not until he had  replaced the bar that we
had removed from the window.

Attached to  the bottom of our  bag, which was open,  were a number of long
cords, terminating in loops. Through these loops we passed the longest rope
that  we  had  made  – a  rope  so  long  that  it  entirely encircled  the
circumference of the tower – when we lowered it below the projecting eaves.
We  made it  fast  there, but  with a  slip  knot that  could  be instantly
released with a single jerk.

Next, we slid  the loops at the end of the ropes  attached to the bottom of
the bag  along the cord that  encircled the tower below  the eaves until we
had maneuvered  the opening of the bag directly over  the mouth of the flue
leading down into the furnace of death in the pits of Ghasta. Standing upon
either side of  the flue Nur An and I lifted the  bag until it commenced to
fill  with  the  hot  air  rushing  from  the  chimney.  Presently  it  was
sufficiently inflated  to remain  in an erect  position, whereupon, leaving
Nur An  to steady it, I moved the loops until  they were at equal distances
from one  another, thus anchoring the  bag directly over the  center of the
flue. Then I passed  another rope loosely through the loops and secured its
end together,  and to opposite sides of this rope Nur  An and I snapped the
boarding hooks that are  a part of the harness of every Barsoomian warrior,
the primary purpose of  which is to lower boarding parties from the deck of
one ship to that  of another directly below, but which in practice are used
in countless ways and numerous emergencies.

Then we waited; Nur An ready to slip the knot that held the rope around the
tower beneath  the eaves and I, upon the  opposite side, with Sharu's sharp
dagger prepared to cut the rope upon my side.

I  saw the  great bag  that we  had made  filling with  hot air.  At first,
loosely inflated, it rocked and swayed, but presently, its sides distended,
it strained  upward. Its fabric  stretched tightly until I  thought that it
should  burst. It  tugged and pulled  at its  restraining cords, and  yet I
waited.

Down  in the  valley of  Hohr there  was little  or no wind,  which greatly
facilitated the carrying out of our rash venture.

The great  bag, almost as large as the room in  which we had been confined,
bellied above  us. It strained upon  its guy ropes in  its impatience to be
aloft  until  I  wondered  that  they  held,  and  then I  gave  the  word.

Simultaneously  Nur An  slipped his knot  and I  severed the rope  upon the
opposite side. Freed, the  great bag leaped aloft, snapping us in its wake.
It shot upward with a velocity that was astounding until the valley of Hohr
was but  a little hollow in  the surface of the  great world that lay below
us.

Presently a  wind caught us and  you may be assured  that we gave thanks to
our ancestors  as we realized that we were at  last drifting from above the
cruel city of Ghasta.  The wind increased until it was blowing rapidly in a
northeasterly direction, but little  did we care where it wafted us as long
as  it  took  us   away  from  the  river  Syl  and  the  valley  of  Hohr.

After we had passed  beyond the crater of the ancient volcano, which formed
the bed of  the valley in which lay somber Ghasta, we  saw below us, in the
moonlight, a  rough volcanic country that  presented a weird and impressive
appearance of unreality; deep  chasms and tumbled piles of basalt seemed to
present an  unsurmountable barrier  to man, which  may explain why  in this
remote  and desolate  corner of  Barsoom the  valley of  Hohr had  lain for
countless ages undiscovered.

The wind  increased. Floating at a great altitude  we were being carried at
considerable speed, yet I could see that we were very slowly falling as the
hot air within our  bag cooled. How much longer it would keep us up I could
not  guess, but I  hoped it would  bear us  at least beyond  the uninviting
terrain beneath us.

With the  coming of dawn we were floating but a  few hundred feet above the
ground; the  volcanic country was far behind us and as  far as we could see
stretched  lovely,  rolling  hills,  sparsely  timbered  with  the  drought
resisting skeel upon which it has been said the civilization of Barsoom has
been erected.

As we  topped a low  hill, passing over it  by a scant fifty  sofads we saw
below us  a building  of gleaming white.  Like all the  cities and isolated
buildings  of Barsoom,  it was  surrounded by  a lofty  wall, but  in other
respects  it  differed  materially   from  the  usual  Barsoomian  type  of
architecture. The edifice, which  was made up of a number of buildings, was
not  surmounted by  the  usual towers,  domes  and minarets  that mark  all
Barsoomian cities and which only in recent ages have been giving way slowly
to the  flat landing stages of an aerial world.  The structure below us was
composed of  a number of flat roofed buildings  of various heights, none of
which, however,  appeared to  rise over four levels.  Between the buildings
and the outer walls and in several open courts between the buildings, there
was a  profusion of  trees and shrubbery  with scarlet sward  and well kept
paths.  It was,  in fact,  a striking  and beautiful  sight, yet  having so
recently been  lured to  near destruction by  the beauties of  Hohr and the
engaging allurements of her  beautiful women, we had no mind to be deceived
again  by  external  appearances.   We  would  float  over  the  palace  of
enchantment   and   take  our   chances   in  the   open  country   beyond.

But fate  willed otherwise. The wind had  abated; we were dropping rapidly;
beneath us we saw  people in the garden of the building and simultaneously,
as  they  discovered  us,  it  was  evident  that  they  were  filled  with
consternation. They hastened quickly to the nearest entrances and there was
not a  human being in sight  when we finally came to  rest upon the roof of
one of the taller sections of the structure.

As we extricated ourselves from the loops in which we had been sitting, the
great bag,  relieved of our weight,  rose quickly into the  air for a short
distance, turned completely over  and dropped to the ground just beyond the
outer wall.  It had  served us well and  now it seemed like  a living thing
that had given up its life for our salvation.

We were  to have little time, however,  for sentimental regrets, for almost
immediately a head appeared  through a small opening in the roof upon which
we stood. The head  was followed by the body of a man, whose harness was so
scant as to  leave him almost nude. He was an old  man with a finely shaped
head, covered with scant, gray locks.

Apparent  physical old  age is so  rare upon  Barsoom as always  to attract
immediate  attention.  In the  natural  span of  life  we live  often to  a
thousand years,  but during that long  period our appearance seldom changes
but little.  It is true that  most of us meet  violent death long before we
reach old  age, but there are  some who pass the  allotted span of life and
others who do not  care for themselves so well and these few constitute the
physically  old among  us; evidently  of such  was the  little old  man who
confronted us.

At sight  of him  Nur An voiced  an exclamation of  pleased surprise. "Phor
Tak!" he cried.

"Heigh-oo!" cackled  the old man in  a high falsetto. "Who  cometh from the
high heavens who knows old Phor Tak?"

"It is I – Nur An!" exclaimed my friend.

"Heigh-oo!"  cried  Phor  Tak.   "Nur  An  –  one  of  Tul  Axtar's  pets."

"As you once were, Phor Tak."

"But not now –  not now," almost screamed the old man. "The tyrant squeezed
me like  some juicy fruit and then cast the  empty rind aside. Heigh-oo! He
thought it was empty, but I pray daily to all my ancestors that he may live
to know that he was wrong. I can say this with safety to you. Nur An, for I
have you in  my power and I promise you that you  shall never live to carry
word of my whereabouts to Tul Axtar."

"Do  not fear,  Phor Tak,"  said Nur  An. "I,  too, have suffered  from the
villainy of the Jeddak of Jahar. You were permitted to leave the capital in
peace, but  all my property was confiscated and  I was sentenced to death."

"Heigh-oo!   Then   you   hate   him,   too,"  exclaimed   the   old   man.

"Hate  is a weak  word to describe  my feeling  for Tul Axtar,"  replied my
friend.

"It is  well," said Phor Tak.  "When I saw you  descending from the skies I
thought that my  ancestors had sent you to help me, and  I know that it was
indeed true. Be this another warrior from Jahar?" he added, nodding his old
head toward me.

"No,  Phor Tak,"  replied Nur  An. "This  is Hadron  of Hastor, a  noble of
Helium, but he, too, has been wronged by Jahar."

"Good!" exclaimed  the old  man. "Now there  are three of  us. Heretofore I
have  had only  slaves and  women to  assist me,  but now with  two trained
warriors,  young and  strong,  the goal  of  my triumph  appears almost  in
sight."

As the two men  conversed I had recalled that part of the story that Nur An
had  told me  in the  pits of  Tjanath which  related to  Phor Tak  and his
invention  of the rifle  that projected  the disintegrating rays  which had
proved so  deadly against the patrol boat above  Helium the night of Sanoma
Tora's abduction. Strange, indeed,  was fate that it should have brought me
into the palace  of the man who held the secret that  might mean so much to
Helium  and to  all Barsoom. Strange,  too, and  devious had been  the path
along which  fate had led me, yet I knew that  my ancestors were guiding me
and that all must have been arranged to some good end.

When Phor  Tak had  heard only a portion  of our story he  insisted that we
must be both fatigued  and hungry and, like the good host that he proved to
be,  he conducted  us down  to the  interior of  his palace  and, summoning
slaves,  ordered that  we be bathed  and fed  and then permitted  to retire
until we were rested. We thanked him for his kindness and consideration, of
which we were glad to avail ourselves.

The  days that  followed were  both interesting  and profitable.  Phor Tak,
surrounded  only by  a few faithful  slaves who  had followed him  into his
exile,  was delighted  with our  company and  with the assistance  which we
could give  him in  his experiment, which,  once assured of  our loyalty he
explained to us in detail.

He told us  the story of his wanderings after he had  left Jahar and of how
he had stumbled upon this long deserted castle, whose builder and occupants
had  left  no record  other  than  their bones.  He  told us  that when  he
discovered it  skeletons had strewn the courtyard  and in the main entrance
were piled  the bones of a score of  warriors, attesting the fierce defense
that the  occupants had waged against some unknown  enemy, while in many of
the upper  rooms he had found other skeletons –  the skeletons of women and
children.

"I believe,"  he said, "that the place was beset  by members of some savage
horde of  green warriors  that left not  a single survivor.  The courts and
gardens  were overgrown  with weeds  and the  interior of the  building was
filled  with dust,  but otherwise little  damage had  been done. I  call it
Jhama, and here I am carrying on my life's work."

"And that?" I asked.

"Revenge upon Tul Axtar,"  said the old man. "I gave him the disintegrating
ray;  I gave  him  the insulating  paint that  protects  his own  ships and
weapons  from it,  and  now some  day I  shall  give him  something  else –
something  that  will  be  as  revolutionary  in  the  art of  war  as  the
disintegrating  ray itself;  something that  will cast  the fleet  of Jahar
broken wrecks upon the ground; something that will search out the palace of
Tul Axtar and bury the tyrant beneath its ruins.

We had  not been  long at Jhama before  both Nur An and  I became convinced
that Phor Tak's mind was at least slightly deranged from long brooding over
the wrongs inflicted upon him by Tul Axtar; though naturally possessed of a
kindly disposition he was  obsessed by a maniacal desire to wreak vengeance
upon the tyrant with  utter disregard of the consequences to himself and to
others. Upon this single  subject he was beyond the influence of reason and
having established to his own satisfaction that Nur An and I were potential
factors in the successful accomplishment of his design, he would fly into a
perfect frenzy  of rage whenever  I broached the subject  of our departure.

Fretting as  I was beneath the  urge to push on to  Jahar and the rescue of
Sanoma Tora,  I could but illy brook this enforced  delay, but Phor Tak was
adamant –  he would not permit  me to depart –  and the absolute loyalty of
his slaves made it  possible for him to enforce his will. In our bearing he
explained to them that  we were guests, honored guest as long as we made no
effort to depart without  his permission, but should they discover us in an
attempt  to   leave  Jhama   surreptitiously  they  were   to  destroy  us.

Nur An  and I discussed the  matter at length. We  had discovered that four
thousand  haads of  difficult  and unfriendly  country lay  between  us and
Jahar. Being without a  ship and without thoats there was little likelihood
that we  should be able to  reach Jahar in time to  be of service to Sanoma
Tora, if  we ever  reached it at  all, and so  we agreed to  bide our time,
impressing  Phor Tak  with  our willingness  to aid  him  in the  hope that
eventually  we  should be  able  to  enlist his  aid  and  support, and  so
successful were we that within a short time we had so won the confidence of
the old  scientist that  we began to  entertain hope that he  would take us
into his  innermost confidence and  reveal the nature of  the instrument of
destruction which he was preparing for Tul Axtar.

I must  admit that I was principally interested  in his invention because I
was confident  that in order to  utilize it against Tul  Axtar he must find
some means of transporting it to Jahar and in this I saw an opportunity for
reaching the capital of the tyrant myself.

We had  been in Jhama about  ten days during which  time Phor Tak exhibited
signs  of  extreme  nervousness  and  irritability.  He kept  us  with  him
practically  all of  the time  that he  was not  closeted in  the innermost
recesses of his secret laboratory.

During the evening meal  upon the tenth day Phor Tak seemed more distraught
than ever.  Talking, as usual, interminably about  his hatred of Tul Axtar,
his countenance assumed an expression of maniacal fury.

"But I  am helpless,"  he almost screamed  at last. "I  am helpless because
there is no  one to whom I may entrust my secret,  who also has the courage
and intelligence  to carry out my  plan. I am too  old, too weak to undergo
the hardships that would mean nothing to young men like you, but which must
be undergone  if I am  to fulfill my destiny  as the savior of  Jahar. If I
could but trust you! If I could but trust you!"

"Perhaps you can, Phor Tak," I suggested.

The  words  or my  tone  seemed  to soothe  him.  "Heigh-oo! he  exclaimed.
"Sometimes I almost think that I can."

"We have a common  aim," I said; "or at least different aims which converge
at the  same point  – Jahar. Let  us work together  then. We  wish to reach
Jahar. If you can help us, we will help you.

He  sat  in silent  thought  for  a long  moment.  "I'll do  it," he  said.
"Heigh-oo! I'll  do it. Come," and  rising from his chair  he led us toward
the  locked doorway  that  barred the  entrance to  his  secret laboratory.

Ten

                              THE FLYING DEATH

PHOR TAK'S laboratory occupied an entire wing of the building and consisted
of a single, immense  room fully fifty feet in height. His benches, tables,
instruments and  cabinets, located  in one corner,  were lost in  the great
interior. Near the ceiling  and encircling the room was a single track from
which was suspended a miniature cruiser, painted the ghastly blue of Jahar.
Upon one  of the  benches was a  cylindrical object about as  long as one's
hand. These were the  only noticeable features of the laboratory other than
its immense emptiness.

As Phor Tak ushered us within he closed the door behind him and I heard the
ominous click of the  ponderous lock. There was something depressing in the
suggestiveness  of the  situation induced,  perhaps, by our  knowledge that
Phor Tak was mad and accentuated by the eerie mystery of the vasty chamber.

Leading us  to the  bench upon which  lay the cylindrical  object which had
attracted my  attention, he  lifted it carefully,  almost caressingly, from
its resting  place. "This,"  he said, "is  a model of the  device that will
destroy  Jahar. In  it you  behold the  concentrated essence  of scientific
achievement. In appearance it  is but a small metal cylinder, but within it
is a mechanism as delicate and as sensitive as the human brain and you will
perceive  that it  functions  almost as  though animated  by a  mind within
itself,  but it  is  purely mechanical  and may  be produced  in quantities
quickly and  at low cost. Before  I explain it further  I shall demonstrate
one phase of its possibilities. Watch!"

Still  holding the  cylinder in  his hand,  Phor Tak  stepped to  a shallow
cabinet against the wall  and opening it revealed an elaborate equipment of
switches, levers and push buttons. "Now watch the miniature flier suspended
from the  track near the ceiling," he directed, at  the same time closing a
switch.  Immediately  the flier  commenced  to  travel along  the track  at
considerable  speed. Now  Phor Tak  pressed a  button upon  the top  of the
cylinder, which immediately sped  from his extended palm, turned quickly in
the air  and rushed  straight for the  speeding flier. Slowly  the distance
between the  two closed; the  cylinder, curving gradually into  the line of
flight of the flier,  was now trailing directly behind it, its pointed nose
but a few feet from the stern of the miniature ship. Then Phor Tak pulled a
tiny lever upon his switchboard and the flier leaped forward at accelerated
speed. Instantly  the speed of the cylinder increased  and I could see that
it  was gaining  in velocity  much more  rapidly than  the flier.  Half way
around the  room again its nose  struck the stem of  the fleeing craft with
sufficient severity  to cause the ship to tremble  from stem to stern; then
the cylinder fell away and floated gently toward the floor. Phor Tak opened
a switch  that stopped the flier  in its flight and  then, running forward,
caught the descending cylinder in his hand.

"This  model," he  explained,  as he  returned to  where  we stood,  "is so
constructed that when it  makes contact with the flier it will float gently
downward to  the floor, but as you have  doubtless fully realized ere this,
the finished  product in practical  use will explode upon  contact with the
ship. Note  these tiny  buttons with which  it is covered. When  any one of
these comes in contact with an object the model stops and descends, whereas
the  full-sized   device,  properly  equipped,   will  explode,  absolutely
demolishing whatever  it may  have come in  contact with. As  you are aware
every  substance in  the universe  has its  own fixed vibratory  rate. This
mechanism can be so attuned as to be attracted by the vibratory rate of any
substance.  The model,  for example,  is attracted  by the  blue protective
paint with which the  flier is covered. Imagine a fleet of Jaharian warship
moving majestically through the air in battle formation. From an enemy ship
or from  the ground and at  a distance so far as  to be unobservable by the
ships of  Jahar, I release as  many of these devices  as there are ships in
the fleet,  allowing a few moments to  elapse between launchings. The first
torpedo  rushes toward  the fleet  and destroys  the nearest ship.  All the
torpedoes in  the rear, strung out  in line, are attracted  by the combined
masses of all the  blue protecting coverings of the entire fleet. The first
ship is falling to the ground and though all of its paint may not have been
destroyed, it has not the power to deflect any of the succeeding torpedoes,
which one by one destroy the nearest of the remaining ships until the fleet
has been absolutely erased.  I have destroyed a great fleet without risking
the life of a single man of my own following."

"But they  will see the torpedoes coming," suggested  Nur An, and they will
devise   some   defense.   Even  gunfire   might   stop   many  of   them."

"Heigh-oo!  But I  have thought  of that,"  cackled Phor  Tak. He  laid the
torpedo upon a bench and opened another cabinet.

In  this cabinet  were  a number  of receptacles,  some tightly  sealed and
others  opened, revealing  their  contents which  appeared to  be different
colored paints. From a number of these receptacles protruded the handles of
paint brushes. One such  handle, however, appeared to hang in midair, a few
inches above one of the shelves, while just beneath it was a section of the
rim of a receptacle that also appeared to be resting upon nothing. Phor Tak
placed his open hand directly beneath this floating rim and when he removed
his hand from the cabinet, the rim of the receptacle and the portion of the
handle of the paint  brush, floating just above it, followed, hovering just
over  his extended  fingers, which  were cupped  in the position  that they
might assume  were they holding a glass jar,  such as would ordinarily have
belonged to a rim  like that which I could see floating about an inch above
his fingers.

Going to  the bench where he  had laid the cylinder,  Phor Tak went through
the motions of setting  a jar upon it, and, though there was no jar visible
other than the floating  rim, I distinctly heard a noise that was identical
with the sound which the bottom of a glass jar would have made in coming in
contact with the bench.

I can  assure you  that I was greatly  mystified, but still more  so by the
events immediately following. Phor Tak seized the handle of the paint brush
and made  a pass a few inches above the  metal torpedo. Instantly a portion
of  the  torpedo,  about  an inch  wide  and  three  or  four inches  long,
disappeared. Pass after pass he made until finally the whole surface of the
torpedo had disappeared. Where  it had rested the bench was empty. Phor Tak
returned the handle of  the paint brush to its floating position just above
the  floating jar  rim  and then  he turned  to  us with  an  expression of
child-like pride upon his face, as much to say, "Well, what do you think of
that? Am  I not wonderful?" And  I was certainly forced  to concede that it
was wonderful  and that I was entirely baffled and  mystified by what I had
seen.

"There, Nur  An," exclaimed Phor Tak,  "is the answer to  your criticism of
The Flying Death."

"I do not understand," said Nur An with a puzzled expression upon his face.

"Heigh-oo!"  cried  Phor Tak.  "Have  you  not seen  me  render the  device
invisible?"

"But it is gone," said Nur An.

Phor Tak  laughed his  high cackling laugh.  "It is still  there," he said,
"but you  cannot see  it. Here," and  he took Nur  An's hand  and guided it
toward the spot where the device had been.

I  could  see Nur  An's  fingers  apparently feeling  over  the surface  of
something several inches above the top of the table. "By my first ancestor,
it is still there!" he exclaimed.

"It is wonderful," I exclaimed. "You did not even touch it; you merely made
passes  above it  with the  handle of  a paint  brush and  it disappeared."

"But I did touch  it," insisted Phor Tak. "The brush was there, but you did
not see it because it was covered by the substance which renders the Flying
Death invisible.  Notice this transparent glass  receptacle in which I keep
the compound of invisibility and all that you can see of it is that part of
the  rim  which,  by  chance,  has  not  been coated  with  the  compound."

"Marvelous!" I  exclaimed. "Even now, although I  have witnessed it with my
own  eyes I  can scarce  conceive of  the possibility  of such  a miracle."

"It  is  no miracle,"  said  Phor Tak.  "It  is merely  the application  of
scientific principles well known to me for hundreds of years. Nothing moves
in straight lines; light,  vision, electromagnetic forces follow lines that
curve.  The  compound of  invisibility  merely bows  outward the  reflected
light,  which,  entering our  eyes  and  impinging upon  our optic  nerves,
results in  the phenomenon which we  call vision, so that  they pass around
any object which is coated with the compound. When I first started to apply
the compound to The  Flying Death, your line of vision was deflected around
the small  portions so coated, but when I coated  the entire surface of the
torpedo, the curve of your vision passed completely around it on both sides
so that you could plainly see the bench upon which it was resting precisely
as though the device had not been there."

I  was  astounded  at  the apparent  simplicity  of  the explanation,  and,
naturally,  being  a  soldier,  I saw  the  tremendous  advantage that  the
possession of these two scientific secrets would impart to the nation which
controlled them.  For the safety; yes, for the  very existence of Helium, I
must  possess them  and  if that  were impossible,  then  Phor Tak  must be
destroyed before  the secret of this  infernal power could be  passed on to
any other nation. Perhaps I could so ingratiate myself with old Phor Tak as
to be  able to persuade him to turn these secrets  over to Helium in return
for  Helium's assistance  in the  work of  wreaking his vengeance  upon Tul
Axtar.

"Phor Tak,"  I said, "you hold here within your  grasp two secrets which in
the hands  of a kindly and  beneficient power would bring  eternal peace to
Barsoom."

"Heigh-oo!  he  cried.  I  do  not  want  peace.  I want  war.  War!  War!"

"Very well,"  I agreed, realizing that  my suggestion had not  been in line
with the mad processes of his crazed brain. "Let us have war then, and what
country upon  Barsoom is  better equipped to  wage war than  Helium? If you
want war, form an alliance with Helium."

"I do not need  Helium," he cried. I do not need to form alliances. I shall
make war  – I shall make  war alone. With the  invisible Flying Death I can
destroy  whole navies,  whole cities,  entire nations.  I shall  start with
Jahar. Tul  Axtar shall be the  first to feel the  weight of my devastating
powers. When the fleet of Jahar has tumbled upon the roofs of Jahar and the
walls  of Jahar  have  fallen about  the ears  of Tul  Axtar, then  shall I
destroy Tjanath.  Helium shall know me next.  Proud and mighty Helium shall
tremble and  bow at  the feet of  Phor Tak. I  shall be  Jeddak of Jeddaks,
ruler of a  world." As he spoke his voice rose to  a piercing shriek and he
trembled in the grip of the frenzy that held him.

He must be destroyed, not alone for the sake of Helium, but for the sake of
all  Barsoom;  this  mad mind  must  be  removed if  I  found  that it  was
impossible to direct or cajole it to my own ends. I determined, however, to
omit no sacrifice that  might tend to bring about a satisfactory conclusion
to  this strange  adventure. I  knew that  mad minds were  sometimes fickle
minds and I hoped  that in a moment of insane caprice Phor Tak might reveal
to me the secret of the Flying Death and the compound of invisibility. This
hope was  his temporary reprieve  from death; its fulfillment  would be his
pardon,  but  I knew  that  I  must work  warily  – that  at the  slightest
suggestion of duplicity, Phor  Tak's suspicions would be aroused and that I
should then be the one to be destroyed.

I  tossed long  upon  my sleeping  silks and  furs  that night  in troubled
thought and  planning. I felt that  I must possess these  secrets; yet how?
That they  existed within his brain alone, I knew, for  he had told me that
there were  no written formulas,  or plans or specifications  for either of
them. Somehow I must  wheedle them out of him and the best way to start was
to ingratiate myself with him. To this end I must further his plans insofar
as I possibly could.

Just before  I fell asleep my  thoughts reverted to Sanoma  Tora and to the
urgent mission  that had led me  to enter upon what  had developed into the
strangest adventure  of my  career. I felt  a twinge of  self-reproach as I
suddenly realized that Sanoma  Tora had not been uppermost in my mind while
I had lain there  making plans for the future, but now with recollection of
her  a plan  was suggested  whereby I  might not  only succor her  but also
advance myself  in the good graces of Phor Tak at  the same time, and, thus
relieved, I fell asleep.

It was late the following morning before I had an opportunity to speak with
the old inventor when I immediately broached the subject that was uppermost
in my  mind. "Phor Tak," I said, "you are  handicapped by lack of knowledge
of conditions existing in Jahar and the size and location of the fleet. Nur
An and I will  go to Jahar for you and obtain the information that you must
have if  your plans are  to be successful. In  this way, Nur An  and I will
also be  striking a  blow at Tul  Axtar while we  will be in  a position to
attend   to  those   matters   which  require   our  presence   in  Jahar."

"But how will you get to Jahar?" demanded Phor Tak.

"Could not you let us take a flier?" I asked.

"I  have none,"  replied Phor  Tak. "I  know nothing  about them. I  am not
interested in them. I could not even build one."

To say  that I was both  surprised and shocked would  be putting it mildly,
but if  I had previously entertained  any doubts that Phor  Tak's brain was
abnormally  developed, it would  have vanished  with his admission  that he
knew nothing  about fliers, for it  seemed to me that  there was scarcely a
man, woman or child  in any of the flying nations of Barsoom but could have
constructed some sort of a flier.

"But how without fliers did you expect to transport The Flying Death to the
vicinity of  the Jaharian fleet? How did you  expect to demolish the palace
of Tul Axtar, or reduce the city of Jahar to ruins?

"Now that you and  Nur An are here to help me, I  can set my slaves to work
under  you and  easily  turn out  a dozen  torpedoes  a day.  As  these are
completed they  will immediately be launched  and eventually they will find
their way  to Jahar and  the fleet. Of that  there is no doubt,  even if it
takes a year they will eventually find their prey."

"If nothing  chances to get in  their way," I suggested;  "but even so what
pleasure will you derive from your revenge if you are unable to witness any
part of it?"

"Heigh-oo! I have thought of that," replied Phor Tak, "but one may not have
everything."

"You may have that," I told him.

"And how?" he demanded.

"By taking  your torpedoes aboard a  ship and flying to  Jahar," I replied.

"No," he  exclaimed stubbornly, "I shall do it my  own way. What right have
you to interfere with my plans?"

"I  merely want  to  help you,"  I said,  attempting  to mollify  him  by a
conciliatory tone and attitude.

"And there  is another thought," said Nur An,  "that suggests that it might
be expedient to follow Hadron's plans."

"You are both against me," said Phor Tak.

"By no means,"  Nur An assured him. "It is our keen  desire to aid you that
prompts the suggestion."

"Well, what is yours then?" asked the old man.

"Your plan contemplates the destruction of the navies of Tjanath and Helium
following the fall of  Jahar," exclaimed Nur An. "This, at least in respect
to the navy of Helium, you cannot possibly hope to accomplish at so great a
distance and without any  knowledge of the number of ships to be destroyed,
nor will  your torpedoes be similarly attracted to them  as they are to the
ships of  Jahar because the ships of these  other nations are not protected
by the  blue paint  of Jahar. It  will, therefore, be necessary  for you to
proceed to  the vicinity  of Tjanath and  later to Helium and  for your own
protection you will use the blue paint of Jahar upon your ship, for you may
never be  certain unless  you are on the  ground at the time  that you have
destroyed  all of  the navy of  Jahar, or  all of their  disintegrating ray
rifles."

"That is true," said Phor Tak thoughtfully.

"And  furthermore,"  continued  Nur  An, "if  you  dispatch  more than  the
necessary number of torpedoes, those that remain at large will certainly be
attracted by  the blue paint of your own ship and  you will be destroyed by
your own devices."

"You ruin  all my plans," screamed  Phor Tak. "Why did  you think of this?"

"If I had not thought of it you would have been destroyed," Nur An reminded
him.

"Well, what  am I to do  about it? I have no ship.  I cannot build a ship."

"We can get you one," I said.

"How?"

The conversation between Nur An and Phor Tak had suggested a plan to me and
this  I now  explained roughly to  them. Nur  An was enthusiastic  over the
idea, but Phor Tak was not particularly keen for it. I could not understand
the grounds for his  objection, nor, as a matter of fact, did they interest
me greatly  since he finally admitted that he would  be compelled to act in
accordance with my suggestion.

Immediately adjacent  to Phor Tak's laboratory  was a well equipped machine
shop and  here Nur An and  I labored for weeks  utilizing the services of a
dozen slaves until we  had succeeded in constructing what I am sure was the
most  remarkable looking  airship  that it  had ever  fallen  to my  lot to
behold.  Briefly,  it  was  a cylinder  pointed  at  each  end and  closely
resembled the model of The Flying Death. Within the outer shell was another
smaller cylinder;  between the  walls of these  two we placed  the buoyancy
tanks.  The  tanks and  the  sides of  the  two envelopes  were pierced  by
observation ports  along each  side of the  ship and at the  bow and stern.
These  ports  could  be  completely covered  by  shutters  hinged upon  the
outside, but operated from within. There were two hatchways in the keel and
two above  which led to a narrow walkway along the  top of the cylinder. In
turrets, forward, and aft were mounted two disintegrating ray rifles. Above
the controls  was a  periscope that transmitted  an image of  all that came
within its range to  a ground glass plate in front of the pilot. The entire
outside of  the ship was first painted the  ghastly blue that would protect
it from the disintegrating  ray rifles of Jahar, while over this was spread
a coating  of the compound  of invisibility. The shutters  that covered the
ports  being  similarly coated,  the  ship could  attain practically  total
invisibility by  closing them,  the only point remaining  visible being the
tiny eye of the periscope.

Not possessing sufficient technical  knowledge to enable me to build one of
the new type  motors, I had to content myself with one  of the old types of
much less efficiency.

At last  the work was done. We had a ship  that would accommodate four with
ease and it was  uncanny to realize this fact and yet, at the same time, be
unable to  see anything but the tiny eyes of  the periscope when the covers
were  lowered  over the  ports,  and  even the  eye  of  the periscope  was
invisible  unless  it  was   turned  in  the  direction  of  the  observer.

As the  work neared completion I had noticed  that Phor Tak's manner became
more marked by nervousness and irritability. He found fault with everything
and  on  several  occasions  he almost  stopped  the  work  upon the  ship.

Now, at last, we  were ready to sail. The ship was stocked with ammunition,
water  and provisions,  and at  the last  minute I installed  a destination
control  compass  for  which  I  was  afterward to  be  devoutly  thankful.

When I suggested immediate departure, however, Phor Tak demurred, but would
give me no reason for his objection.

Presently, however, I lost patience and told the old man that we were going
anyway whether he liked it or not.

He did  not fly  into a rage  as I had  expected, but  laughed instead, and
there  was something  in the  laugh that  seemed more terrible  than anger.

"You think I am  a fool," he said, "and that I will let you go and carry my
secrets to Tul Axtar, but you are mistaken."

"So are you," I snapped. "You are mistaken in thinking that we would betray
you  and  you are  also  mistaken  in thinking  that  you  can prevent  our
departure."

"Heigh-oo!" he cackled. "I do not need to prevent your departure, but I can
prevent your arrival at  Jahar or elsewhere. I have not been idle while you
worked upon  this ship. I have constructed a  full-size Flying Death. It is
attuned to  search out this ship. If you depart  against my wishes, it will
follow   and  destroy  you.   Heigh-oo!  What   do  you  think   of  that?"

"I think that you  are an old fool," I cried in exasperation. "You have the
opportunity to  enlist the loyal aid of two  honorable warriors and yet you
choose to turn them into enemies."

"Enemies who  cannot harm  me," he reminded  me. "I hold your  lives in the
hollow of  my hand. Well have you concealed your  thoughts from me, but not
quite well enough. I have read enough of them to know that you think me mad
and I  have also received the impression that you  would stop at nothing to
prevent me from using my power against Helium. I have no doubt but that you
will help me against  Jahar, and against Tjanath, too, perhaps, but Helium,
the mightiest and proudest empire of Barsoom, is my real goal. Helium shall
proclaim me  Jeddak of Jeddaks if I have to wreck  a world to accomplish my
design."

"Then all our work  has been for nothing?" I demanded. "We are not going to
use the ship we have constructed?"

"We may use it," he said, "but under my terms."

"And what are they?" I asked.

"You may go alone to Jahar, but I shall keep Nur An here as hostage. If you
betray me, he dies."

There  was   no  moving  him;  no  amount   of  argument  could  alter  his
determination.  I  tried to  convince  him  that one  man could  accomplish
little, that, in fact,  he might not be able to accomplish anything, but he
was adamant – I should go alone or not at all.

Eleven

                           "LET THE FIRE BE HOT!"

AS I AROSE that  night into the starlit splendor of a Barsoomian night, the
white castle of Phor Tak lay a lovely gem below me bathed in the soft light
of  Thuria. I  was alone;  Nur An  remained behind  the hostage of  the mad
scientist. Because  of him  I must return  to Jhama. Nur An  had exacted no
promise from me, but he knew that I would return.

Twenty-five hundred  haads to the  east lay Jahar and  Sanoma Tora. Fifteen
hundred haads to the southwest were Tjanath and Tavia. I turned the nose of
my  flier toward  the goal  of duty,  toward the  woman I loved,  and, with
throttle   wide,   my   invisible   craft  sped   toward   distant   Jahar.

But my  thoughts I could not control. Despite my  every effort to keep them
concentrated upon the purpose  of my adventure, they persisted in wandering
to  a prison  tower, to  a tousled  head of  refractory hair, to  a rounded
shoulder that had once pressed mine. I shook myself to be rid of the vision
as I  sped through  the night, but  it constantly returned and  in its wake
came harrowing thoughts of  the fate that might have overtaken Tavia during
my absence.

I  set my  destination control  compass upon  Jahar, the exact  position of
which I  had obtained from Phor Tak, and thus  relieved of the necessity of
constantly remaining at the controls, I busied myself about the interior of
the ship.  I looked to the ammunition of  the disintegrating ray rifles and
rearranged it to suit my own ideas.

Phor Tak  had equipped me with three types  of rays; one would disintegrate
metal,  another would  disintegrate wood  and the third  would disintegrate
human flesh. I had  also brought along something which Phor Tak had refused
me when I had  asked him for it. I pressed the pocket  pouch in which I had
placed it to  make sure that I still had the vial,  the contents of which I
imagined might prove of inestimable value to me.

I raised  all the port shutters  and adjusted the ventilators,  for at best
the interior  of this strange ship  seemed close and stuffy  to one who was
accustomed  to the open  deck of the  fast scout  fliers of Helium.  Then I
spread my sleeping silks  and furs and settled myself down to rest, knowing
that when I arrived  at Jahar my destination control compass would stop the
ship and  an alarm  would awaken me if  I still slept, but  sleep would not
come. I  thought of Sanoma Tora. I visualized  her cold and stately beauty,
but always  her haughty  eyes dissolved into  the eyes of  Tavia, sparkling
with the joy of life, soft with the light of friendship.

I was  far from Jhama when  at last I sprang  determinedly from my sleeping
silks  and furs,  and  going to  the controls,  I  cut off  the destination
control compass  and with a single, swift turn swung  the nose of the flier
toward Tjanath.

The  die  was cast.  I  felt  that I  should  experience  remorse and  self
loathing,  but I  experienced neither. I  joyed in  the thought that  I was
rushing  to the  service  of a  friend and  I  knew in  the  most innermost
recesses  of  my heart  that  of  the two,  Tavia  had more  claim upon  my
friendship than  had Sanoma  Tora, from, whom  I had received  at best only
scant courtesy.

I  did not  again try  to sleep. I  did not  feel like sleeping;  instead I
remained at  the controls and  watched the desolate landscape  as it rushed
forward to pass beneath  me. With the coming of dawn I saw Tjanath directly
ahead of me and as I approached the city it was difficult for me to realize
that I  could do  so with utter impunity  and that my ship  with its closed
ports was entirely invisible. Moving slowly now, I circled above the palace
of Haj  Osis. Those portions of  the palace that were  topped by flat roofs
revealed sleepy  guardsmen. At the main  hangar a single guardsman watched.

I floated  above the east tower; beneath me,  cuddled in her sleeping silks
and furs, I could  picture Tavia. How surprised she would he could she know
that I hovered thus close above her.

Dropping lower  I circled the tower, coming to  a stop finally opposite the
windows of the room in which Tavia had been confined. I maneuvered the ship
to bring one of the ports opposite the window and close enough to give me a
view  of the interior  of the room.  But though  I remained there  for some
time, I could see no one and at last I became convinced that Tavia had been
removed  to other quarters.  I was  disappointed for this  must necessarily
greatly  complicate  my  plans  for  rescue.  I  had  foreseen  but  little
difficulty in  transferring Tavia by night through  the tower window to the
flier; now  I must  make my plans  all anew. Everything  hinged, of course,
upon my  ability to  locate Tavia. To  do that it  was evident  that I must
enter the palace. The moment that I quitted the invisibility of my flier, I
should be  menaced by the greatest danger at every  turn, and, clothed as I
was in home-made harness  fashioned by the hands of the slaves of Phor Tak,
I should arouse the active suspicion of the first person who laid eyes upon
me.

I must enter the  palace and to do it in any degree of safety I must have a
disguise.

All my ports were  now closed, the periscope being my only eye. I turned it
slowly about  as I tried to  plan some method of  procedure that might have
within it some tiny seed of success.

As  the panorama  slowly unfolded  itself upon  the ground glass  before me
there appeared  the main palace  hangar and the single  warrior upon watch.
Here my periscope came  to rest, for here was an entrance to the palace and
here a disguise.

Slowly maneuvering  my ship  in the direction  of the hangar,  I brought it
down upon  the roof of that structure. I should have  been glad to moor it,
but here there were no means at hand. I must depend upon its own weight and
hope that no high wind would rise.

Realizing that the instant  that I emerged from the interior of the flier I
should be  entirely visible, I waited,  watching through my periscope until
the warrior  upon the  roof just below  me turned his back;  then I emerged
quickly from  the ship through one of the upper  batches and dropped to the
roof upon  the side closest to the warrior. I was  about four feet from the
edge of  the roof and he was standing almost below  me, his back toward me.
Should  he turn  he would  discover me  instantly and  would give  an alarm
before  I could be  upon him. My  only hope  of success, therefore,  was to
silence him before he realized that he was menaced.

I have learned from  the experiences of John Carter that first thoughts are
often  inspirations, while sober  afterthought may  lead to failure,  or so
delay action as to nullify all its effect.

Therefore, in this instance,  I acted upon inspiration. I did not hesitate.
I stepped quickly to the edge of the roof and hurled myself straight at the
broad  shoulders   of  the   sentry.  In  my   hand  was  a   slim  dagger.

The end  came quickly. I think the poor fellow  never knew what happened to
him. Dragging his body to the interior of the hangar I stripped the harness
from it,  at the same time,  though almost mechanically, I  noted the ships
within the hangar. With  the exception of one, a patrol boat, they all bore
the personal  insignia of the Jed of Tjanath. They  were the king's ships –
an  ornate cruiser heavily  armed, two  smaller pleasure crafts,  a two-man
scout flier  and a one-man scout  flier. They were not  much, of course, by
comparison with  the ships of Helium,  but I was quite  sure that they were
absolutely the best that Tjanath could afford. However, having my own ship,
I was  not particularly  concerned with these  other than that  I am always
interested in ships of all descriptions.

Not far from where I stood was the entrance to a ramp leading down into the
palace.  Realizing that  only through  boldness might  I succeed,  I walked
directly to  the ramp  and entered it.  As I rounded  the first  turn I was
appalled to  see that the ramp  passed directly through a  guard room. Upon
the  floor fully  a score  of warriors  were stretched upon  their sleeping
silks and furs.

I did not dare  to pause; I must keep on. Perhaps I could pass them without
arousing their curiosity. I  had had but a brief glimpse of the room before
I entered it and  in that glimpse I had seen only men apparently wrapped in
sleep and  an instant later, as I emerged into the  room itself, I saw that
it contained only those  whom I had first seen. No one within it was awake,
but  I heard  voices  in an  adjoining  room. Hurrying  quickly across  the
apartment I entered the ramp upon the opposite side.

I  think my heart  had stood still  as I  strode silently across  that room
among those  sleeping men, for had  a single one of  them awakened he would
have  inevitably  known  that   I  was  no  fellow  member  of  the  guard.

Further down  within the palace itself  I should be in  less danger, for so
great is  the number of  retainers in the palace  of a jed that  no one may
know them all by  sight, so that strange and unfamiliar faces are almost as
customary as they are upon the avenues of a city.

My  plan  was to  try to  reach  the tower  room  in which  Tavia had  been
confined, for  I was positive that, from my position  in the flier, I could
not see the entire  interior and it was just possible that Tavia was there.

Owing  to the  construction of  my ship  I had  been unable to  attract her
attention without  raising a  hatch and taking  the chance of  revealing my
presence, which would have,  I felt, jeopardized Tavia's chances for escape
far too greatly to warrant my doing so.

Perhaps I should have  waited until night; perhaps I was overanxious and in
my zeal I might be running far greater risks than were necessary. I thought
of these things now  and perhaps I upbraided myself, but I had gone too far
now  to  retreat.  I  was  properly  in  for  it,  whatever  might  follow.

As I  followed the ramp down  to different levels I  tried to discover some
familiar landmark  that might lead me  to the east tower,  and as I emerged
into a corridor at one of the levels I saw almost directly in front of me a
door which  I instantly  recognized – it was  the door to the  office of Yo
Seno, the keeper of the keys.

"Good!" I thought. "Fate certainly has led me here."

Crossing  to the  door I  opened it  and stepped  quickly within  the room,
closing the door behind  me. Yo Seno was sitting at his desk. He was alone.
He did not look  up. He was one of those arrogant men  – a small man with a
little authority – who  liked to impress his importance upon all inferiors.
Therefore, doubtless, it was his way to ignore his visitors for a moment or
two. This time he  made a mistake. After quietly locking the door behind me
I crossed to  the door at the opposite end of the  room and bolted it, too.

It was  then that, doubtless compelled by curiosity,  Yo Seno looked up. At
first he  did not  recognize me. "What  do you want?"  he demanded gruffly.

"You, Yo Seno," I said.

He looked at me  steadily for a moment with growing astonishment, then with
his eyes wide he leaped to his feet. "You?" he screamed. "By Issus, no! You
are dead!"

"I have returned from the grave, Yo Seno. I have come back to haunt you," I
said.

"What  do you  want?"  he demanded.  "Stand aside!  You are  under arrest."

"Where is Tavia?" I asked.

"How do I know?" he demanded.

"You are  the keeper of the keys, Yo Seno. Who  should know better than you
where the prisoners are?"

"Well, what if I do know? I shall not tell," he said.

"You   shall  tell,   Yo   Seno,  or   you  shall   die."  I   warned  him.

He had  walked from behind his desk and was standing  not far from me when.
without warning  and with far greater  celerity than I gave  him credit for
possessing, he  snatched his long sword from its  scabbard and was upon me.

I was  forced to jump backward quickly to avoid his  first cut, but when he
swung the second time  my own sword was out and I was  on my guard. Yo Seno
proved himself no mean antagonist. He was clever with the sword and he knew
that he was fighting  for his life. I wondered at first why he did not call
for help  and then I came to the conclusion that  it was because there were
no warriors in the adjoining room, as there had been upon my previous visit
to Yo  Seno's quarters.  We fought in  silence, only the din  of metal upon
metal reflecting the deadliness of the combat.

I was in a hurry to be done with him and I was pressing him closely when he
resorted to a trick which came near to proving my undoing. I had backed him
up against his desk and thought that I had him where he could not escape. I
could not see his left hand behind him; nor the heavy vase for which it was
groping, but  an instant later I  saw the thing flying  straight at my head
and I also  saw the opening which Yo Seno made in  the instant that he cast
the missile,  for so  occupied was he  with his aim  that he  let his point
drop. Stooping  beneath the vase  I sprang into close  quarters, driving my
sword through the heart of Yo Seno.

As I wiped the  blood from my blade upon the hair of  my victim I could not
repress a feeling of elation that it had been my hand that had cut down the
seducer of Phao and in some measure avenged the honor of my friend, Nur An.

Now, however, was no  time for meditation. I heard footsteps approaching in
the  corridor without  and  hastily seizing  the harness  of the  corpse, I
dragged it  toward the panel which hid the  entrance to the secret corridor
that led to the room in the east tower – that familiar corridor where I had
passed happy moments alone with Tavia.

With more  haste than  reverence, I dumped  the corpse of Yo  Seno into the
dark interior and then, closing the panel after me, I groped my way through
the  darkness toward the  tower room, my  heart high  with the hope  that I
might find Tavia still there.

As I approached the  panel at the tower end of the corridor I could feel my
heart beating rapidly – a sensation to which I was unaccustomed and which I
could  not  explain.  I  was positive  that  I  was  in excellent  physical
condition, and,  while it is not  at all unusual that  surprise or imminent
danger causes  the heart of some men to palpitate,  even though they may be
endowed with exceptional courage, yet, for my part, I had never experienced
such  a   sensation  and  I  must  admit   that  I  was  deeply  mystified.

The  anticipation  of seeing  Tavia  again  soon caused  me  to forget  the
unpleasant sensation  and as I stopped  behind the panel my  whole mind was
occupied with pleasurable consideration of what I hoped awaited me beyond –
the longed for reunion with this best of friends.

I was  upon the point of springing the catch and  opening the panel when my
attention was  attracted by  voices from the  room beyond. I  heard a man's
voice and  that of a woman, but I could  understand no words. Cautiously, I
opened  the panel  sufficiently to permit  me to  view the interior  of the
apartment.

The scene  that met my gaze sent the hot  fighting blood surging through my
frame.  In the center  of the room  a young  warrior in rich  trappings had
Tavia in his grasp and was dragging her across the room toward the doorway.
Tavia struggled, striking at him.

"Don't be a fool," snarled the man. "Haj Osis has given you to me. You will
lead   a  better   life   as  my   slave  than   most  free   women  live."

"I prefer prison or death," replied Tavia.

Phao was  standing helplessly at one side,  her eyes filled with compassion
for Tavia.  It was obvious that she could do  nothing to defend her friend,
for the trappings of the warrior proclaimed him of high rank, but just what
that rank was I  did not discern at the time for I was not interested. In a
bound I  was in the center  of the room and  seizing the warrior roughly by
the shoulder,  I hurled him backward  so heavily that he  fell sprawling to
the floor.  I heard gasps of  astonishment from both Phao  and Tavia and my
name breathed in the soft accents of the latter.

As I  drew my  sword the warrior scrambled  to his feet, but  did not draw.
"Fool! Idiot! Knave!" he  shrieked. "Do you not realize what you have done?
Do you not know who I am?"

"In a  moment it will be  'who you were'," I  told him in a  low voice. "On
guard!"

"No,"  he cried, backing  away. "You wear  the harness  and the metal  of a
warrior of  the guard. You cannot  dare draw your sword  against the son of
Haj Osis. Back, fellow, I am Prince Haj Alt."

"I could pray to Issus that you might be Haj Osis himself," I replied, "but
at  least  there will  be  some recompense  in  the knowledge  that I  have
destroyed  his spawn. On  guard, you fool,  unless you  wish to die  like a
sorak."

He was  still backing away and now he looked  about him with every evidence
of terror written upon  his weak countenance. He espied the panel door that
I  had inadvertently  left open and  before I  could prevent he  had darted
through and  closed it  behind him. I  leaped in pursuit, but  the lock had
clicked  and I  did not  know where  to find  the mechanism to  release it.

"Quick, Phao!" I cried.  "You know the secret of the panel. Open it for me.
We must not permit  this fellow to escape or he will sound the alarm and we
shall all be lost."

Phao ran  quickly to  my side and  placed her thumb upon  a button cleverly
hidden in the ornate  carving of the wood paneling that covered the wall. I
waited in  breathless expectancy, but  the panel did not  open. Phao pushed
frantically again  and again, and then  she turned to me  with a gesture of
helplessness and defeat.

"He has  tampered with  the lock upon the  other side," she said.  "He is a
clever rogue and he would have thought of that."

"We must  follow," I said, and  raising my long sword  I struck the panel a
heavy blow that would have shattered much thicker planking, but I only made
a  scratch upon  it,  tearing away  a little  piece  scarce thicker  than a
fingernail, but the scar that I had made revealed the harrowing truth – the
panel was constructed of forandus, the hardest and the lightest metal known
to  Barsoomians. I  turned away.  "It is  useless," I  said "to  attempt to
pierce forandus with cold steel."

Tavia had  crossed to  us and was  standing in silence, looking  up into my
face. Her  eyes were bathed with  unshed tears and I  saw her lips tremble.
"Hadron!" she breathed. "You  have come back from the dead. Oh, why did you
come, for this time they will make no mistake."

"You know why I came, Tavia," I told her.

"Tell me," she said, very soft and low.

"For friendship,  Tavia," I replied; "for  the best friend that  a man ever
had."

At first she seemed surprised and then an odd little smile curved her lips.
"I would  rather have the friendship of Hadron  of Hastor," she said, "than
any other gift the world might give me."

It was  a nice thing for  her to say and I  certainly appreciated it, but I
did not understand that  little smile. However, I had no time then in which
to solve riddles; the problem of our safety was the all important question,
and then  it was that  I thought of the  vial in my pocket  pouch. I looked
quickly about the room.  In one comer I espied a pile of sleeping silks and
furs; something  there might  answer my purpose;  the contents of  the vial
might  yet give  us all  freedom if I  had but  time enough. I  ran quickly
across  the room  and searched rapidly  until I  had found three  pieces of
fabric that were at least best suited to my purpose than any of the others.
I opened  my pocket  pouch to withdraw the  vial and at the  same instant I
heard  the pounding  of running  feet and  the clank  and clatter  of arms.

Too  late! They  were already  at the  door. I  closed my pocket  pouch and
waited.  At first  it was  in my  mind to  take them  on in combat  as they
entered, but  I put that idea  aside as worse than  useless, since it could
result in  nothing but my death, whereas  time might conjure an opportunity
to use the contents of the vial.

The door  swung open,  fully fifty warriors  were revealed in  the corridor
without. A padwar of the guard entered followed by his men. "Surrender!" he
commanded.

"I have not drawn," I replied. "Come and take it."

"You admit  that you are the warrior who attacked  the prince, Haj Alt?" he
demanded.

"I do," I replied.

"What have these women to do with it?"

"Nothing. I  do not  know them. I  followed Haj Alt here  because I thought
that it would give me the opportunity that I have long sought to kill him."

"Why did  you want to kill him?" demanded  the padwar. "What grievance have
you against the prince?"

"None,"  I  replied. "I  am  a professional  assassin  and I  was hired  by
others."

"Who are they?" he demanded.

I laughed at him, for I knew that he knew better than to ask a professional
assassin of  Barsoom such a question  as that. The members  of this ancient
fraternity are  guided by a code of  ethics which they scrupulously observe
and seldom, if ever,  can anything persuade or force one of their number to
divulge the name of his principal.

I saw  Tavia's eyes  upon me and  it seemed to  me that there  was a little
questioning expression  in them, but I  knew that she must  know that I was
lying thus to protect her and Phao.

I  was hustled  from the  chamber and  as I  was being conducted  along the
corridors and down the  ramps of the palace, the padwar questioned me in an
endeavor to learn my true identity. I was greatly relieved to discover that
they  did not  recognize me  and I  hoped that  I might continue  to escape
recognition,  not  that it  would  make any  difference  in my  fate for  I
realized that  the direst would be inflicted upon  one who had attempted to
assassinate the prince of the house of Haj Osis, but I was afraid that were
I to be recognized they might accuse Tavia of complicity in the attack upon
Haj   Alt   and   that   she  would   be   made   to  suffer   accordingly.

Presently I  found myself in the pits again and by  chance in the very cell
that Nur  An and I had  occupied. I experienced almost  the sensations of a
homecoming,  but with  variations. Once  again I  was alone, fettered  to a
stone  wall. My  only hope, the  vial which  they had overlooked  and which
still reposed  at the  bottom of my pocket  pouch. But this was  no time or
place to  use its contents, nor had I the  requisite materials at hand even
had I been unfettered.

I was not long in the pits this time before warriors came and, unlocking my
fetters, conducted  me to  the great throne  room of the  palace, where Haj
Osis sat upon his dais surrounded by the high officers and functionaries of
his army and his court.

Haj Alt, the  prince, was there and when he saw me  being led up toward the
throne  he trembled  with rage.  As I was  halted in  front of the  jed, he
turned  to his son.  "Is this the  warrior who  attacked you, Haj  Alt?" he
asked.

"This is  the scoundrel," replied the younger man.  "He took me by surprise
and would  have stabbed  me in the back  had I not managed  to outwit him."

"He drew his sword against you," demanded Haj Osis – "against the person of
a prince?"

"He did and he  would have killed me with it, too, as  he did kill Yo Seno,
whose corpse  I found in the  corridor that leads from  Yo Seno's office to
the tower."

So, they  had found the body  of Yo Seno. Well, they  would not kill me any
deader  for  that  crime   than  for  menacing  the  life  of  the  prince.

At this  juncture an officer  entered the throne room  rather hurriedly. He
was  breathing rapidly  as he  stopped at  the foot  of the throne.  He was
standing right  beside me  and I saw him  turn and look quickly  at me, his
eyes  running  rapidly up  and  down  me between  head  and  feet. Then  he
addressed the man upon the throne.

"Haj Osis,  Jed of Tjanath," he said, "I came quickly  to tell you that the
body  of a  warrior of  the hangar  guard was  just found within  the Jed's
hangar.  His harness  had  been stripped  from him  and his  weapons, while
strange harness  and strange weapons were  left beside his corpse  and as I
approached  your throne,  Haj  Osis, I  recognized the  harness of  my dead
warrior upon the body  of this man here," and he pointed an accusing finger
at me.

Haj Osis  was scrutinizing me very carefully now.  There was a strange look
in his eyes that  I did not like. It betokened half recognition and then of
a  sudden I  saw  the dawning  of full  recognition there,  and the  Jed of
Tjanath swore  a loud  oath that resounded  through the great  throne room.

"Breath of Issus!" he shouted. "Look at him! Do you not know him? He is the
spy from Jahar who called himself Hadron of Hastor. He died The Death. With
my own  eyes I saw him,  and yet he is back here  in my palace murdering my
people and  threatening my son, but  this time he shall  die." Haj Osis had
arisen from his throne  and with upraised hands that seemed to claw the air
above me he appeared like some hideous corphal pronouncing a curse upon its
victim. "But first we  shall know who sent him here. He did not come of his
own volition to kill  me and my son; behind him is some malignant mind that
yearns to  destroy the Jed of Tjanath and his  family. Burn him slowly, but
do not let  him die until he has divulged the name.  Away with him! Let the
fire be hot, but slow."

Twelve

                         THE CLOAK OF INVISIBILITY

AS HAJ  OSIS, Jed of Tjanath,  pronounced sentence of death  upon me I knew
whatever I  might do to save  myself must be done  at once, for the instant
that the  guards laid hold upon me again my  final hope would have vanished
for  it  was evident  that  the  torture and  the  death  would take  place
immediately.

The  warriors forming  the guard that  had escorted  me from the  pits were
lined up  several paces behind me.  The dais upon which  Haj Osis stood was
raised but  a little  over three feet  above the floor of  the throne room.
Between me and the Jed of Tjanath there was no one, for as he had sentenced
me  he had  advanced  from his  throne to  the very  edge of  the platform.

The action that I  took was not delayed as long as it  has taken me to tell
it. Had  it been, it could never have been taken  for the guards would have
been  upon me.  Instantly the  last word  fell from  his mouth my  plan was
formulated and in that instant I leaped cat-like to the dais, full upon Haj
Osis, Jed of Tjanath. So sudden, so unexpected was my attack that there was
no defense. I  seized him by the throat with one hand  and with the other I
snatched his  dagger from its sheath and raising it  above him I shouted my
warning in a voice that all might hear.

"Stand back, or Haj Osis dies!" I cried.

They had started to  rush me, but as the full import of my threat came home
to them, they halted.

"It is my life, or yours, Haj Osis," I said, "unless you do what I tell you
to do."

"What?" he asked, his face black with terror.

"Is there an anteroom behind the throne?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "What of it?"

"Take  me there  alone,"  I said.  "Command  your people  to stand  aside."

"And  let you  kill  me when  you get  me  there?" he  demanded, trembling.

"I shall kill  you now if you do not," I replied.  "Listen, Haj Osis, I did
not come here to  kill you or your son. What I told the padwar of the guard
was a lie. I came for another purpose, far transcending in importance to me
the life  of Haj Osis or  that of his son.  Do as I tell  you and I promise
that I  shall not  kill you. Tell  your people that  we are  going into the
anteroom and that I  promise not to harm you if we are left alone there for
five xats (about fifteen minutes)."

He hesitated.  "Make haste," I said,  "I have no time  to waste," and I let
the point of his own dagger touch his throat.

"Don't!" he  screamed, shrinking back.  "I will do whatever  you say. Stand
back all of you!" he shouted to his people. I am going to the anteroom with
this warrior  and I command you  upon pain of death  not to enter there for
five   xats.  At   the   end  of   that  time,   come;  but   not  before."

I took a firm  hold upon Haj Osis' harness between his shoulders and I kept
the point of his dagger pressed against the flesh beneath his left shoulder
blade as  I followed him toward  the anteroom, while those  who had crowded
the  dais behind  the throne  fell back  to make  an aisle  for us.  At the
doorway I halted and turned toward them.

"Remember,"   I   said,  "five   full   xats   and  not   a  tal   before."

Entering the anteroom I closed and bolted the door, and then, still forcing
Haj Osis  ahead of  me, I crossed the  room and closed and  bolted the only
other door to  the chamber. Then I pushed the Jed to  one side of the room.

"Lie down here upon your face," I said.

"You promised not to kill me," he wailed.

"I shall not kill  you unless they come before the five xats are up and you
do otherwise  than as I bid  you so as not to delay me.  I am going to bind
you, but it will not hurt you."

With  poor grace  he lay  down upon his  belly and  with his own  harness I
strapped his arms together behind his back. Then I blindfolded him and left
him lying there.

As I had entered  the room I had taken in its contents with a single, quick
glance and  I had seen there  precisely the things that  I most needed, and
now that I had disposed of Haj Osis I crossed quickly to one of the windows
and tore  down a part of  the silk hangings that covered  it. It was a full
length of  fine, light  silk and very  wide, since it had  been intended to
hang  in graceful  folds as  an under-drape  with heavier hangings.  At the
ornate desk  where the Jed of  Tjanath signed his decrees,  I went to work.
First  I took  the vial  from my  pocket pouch  and unstoppered it;  then I
wadded the  silk into a ball and because of  its wonderful fineness I could
compress it within my  two hands. Fastening the ball of silk into a loosely
compressed mass  with strips tom from another  hanging, I slowly poured the
contents of the vial  over it, turning the ball with the point of Haj Osis'
dagger. Remembering Phor Tak's warning, I was careful not to let any of the
contents of the vial  come in contact with my flesh and I could readily see
why one had to be careful as I watched the ball of silk disappear before my
eyes.

Knowing that the compound of invisibility would dry almost as rapidly as it
impregnated the  silk, I waited  only a brief instant  after emptying about
half the contents of the vial upon the ball. Then, groping with my fingers,
I found  the strings that held it into its  roughly spherical shape and cut
them, after which  I shook the silk out as best I  could. For the most part
it was invisible, but there were one or two spots that the compound had not
reached. These  I quickly  daubed with some  of the liquid  remaining in my
pocket pouch.

So much depended upon  the success of my experiment that I almost feared to
put it  to the test, but  it must be tested  and there could be  only a few
xats  remaining  before the  warriors  of  Haj Osis  would  burst into  the
antechamber.

By feel alone I  draped the silk over my head so that it fell all about me.
Through its  thin and  delicate meshes I  could see objects  at close range
quite well enough to  make my way about. I crossed to Haj Osis and took the
blind  from his  eyes, at the  same time  stepping quickly back.  He looked
hurriedly and affrightedly about him.

"Who did that?" he  demanded, and then half to himself, "he is gone." For a
moment he  was silent, rolling his eyes  about in all directions, searching
every nook  and comer  of the apartment.  Then an expression  that was part
hope and part relief came to his eyes.

"Quick!"  he  shouted  in  a  loud  voice.  "The guard!  He  has  escaped!"

I breathed a sigh  of relief – if Haj Osis could not see me, no one could –
my plan had succeeded.

I dared  not return  to the throne room  and make my escape  that way along
corridors with  which I was familiar  for I could already  hear the rush of
feet  toward the  anteroom door and  I was  well aware that,  although they
could not see me, they could feel me and that unquestionably in the rush my
mantle of invisibility, or at least a portion of it, would be torn from me,
which would indubitably spell my doom.

I ran  quickly to the  other doorway and unbolted  it and as I  opened it I
looked back at Haj  Osis. His eyes were upon the doorway and they were wide
with incredulity and horror. For an instant I did not realize the cause and
looked quickly  behind me  to see if I  could see what had  caused Haj Osis
fright and then  it dawned upon me and I smiled. He  had seen and heard the
bolt shot and the door open as though by ghostly hands.

He must  have sensed a vague suspicion of the  truth, for he turned quickly
toward the other door  and screamed a warning in a high falsetto voice. "Do
not enter," he  cried, "until the five xats are up. It  is I who commands –
Haj Osis, the Jed."

Closing the door after me and still smiling, I hastened along the corridor,
searching for a ramp  that would carry me to the upper levels of the palace
from which I could  easily locate the guard room and the hangar where I had
left my ship.

The  corridor  I  had  entered  led  directly into  the  royal  apartments.

At first  it was difficult to  accustom myself to my  invisibility and as I
suddenly entered an apartment  in which there were several people, my first
impulse was  to turn and flee,  but though I had  stepped directly into the
view of one  of the occupants of the room and at  a distance of little more
than five  or six feet without attracting  his attention, although his eyes
were  apparently directly upon  me, my  confidence was quickly  restored. I
continued on across the room as nonchalantly as though I had been in my own
quarters in Helium.

The royal apartment seemed interminable and though I was constantly seeking
a  way out  of them into  one of the  main corridors  of the palace,  I was
instead constantly  stumbling into  places where I  did not care  to be and
where I had no business, sometimes with considerable embarrassment, as when
I entered  a cozy,  private apartment in  the women's quarters  at a moment
when  I   was  convinced   they  were  not   expecting  strange  gentlemen.

I would not turn back, however, for I had no time to lose, and crossing the
room I  followed another  short corridor only  to leap from  the frying pan
into  the fire  –  I had  entered the  forbidden  apartment of  the Jeddara
herself. It  is a good thing  for the royal lady that it  was I and not Haj
Osis  who  came thus  unexpectedly  upon  her, for  her  position was  most
compromising, and from his harness I judged that her good looking companion
was a  slave. In disgust I retreated, for there was  no other exit from the
apartment, and presently I  stumbled, entirely by accident, upon one of the
main corridors of the palace – a busy corridor filled with slaves, warriors
and  courtiers,  with men,  women  and  children passing  to  and fro  upon
whatever business  called them,  or perhaps seated upon  the carved benches
that lined the walls.

I was not yet  accustomed to my new and surprising state of invisibility. I
could see the people about me and it seemed inevitable that I must be seen.
For  a  moment I  had hesitated  in  the doorway  that  had led  me to  the
corridor.  A slave  girl, approaching  along the corridor,  turned suddenly
toward the  doorway where I stood. She was looking  directly at me, yet her
gaze appeared to pass entirely through me. For an instant I was filled with
consternation, and then, realizing that she was about to collide with me, I
stepped quickly to one  side. She passed by me, but it was evident that she
sensed my  presence for she paused and  looked quickly about, an expression
of surprise in her eyes. Then, to my immense relief, she passed through the
doorway.  She had  not  seen me,  though doubtless  she had  heard me  as I
stepped aside. With a feeling of renewed confidence I now joined the throng
in  the corridor, threading  my way in  and out  among the people  to avoid
contact with  them and searching diligently all  the while for the entrance
to a ramp leading  upward. This I presently discovered, and it was not long
thereafter  that I  reached the upper  level of  the palace, where  a short
search brought me to  the guard room at the foot of the ramp leading to the
royal hangars.

Idling  in the  guard  room, the  warriors then  off  duty were  engaged in
various  pursuits. Some  where cleaning  their harness and  polishing their
metal; two  were playing at jetan, while  others were rolling tiny numbered
spheres at a group of numbered holes – a fascinating game of chance, called
yano, which  is, I presume,  almost as old as  Barsoomian civilization. The
room was filled with  the laughter and oaths of fighting men. How alike are
warriors the  world over! But for their harness  and their metal they might
have been a detachment of the palace guard at Helium.

Passing among them I ascended the ramp to the roof where the hangars stood.
Two  warriors on  duty at  the top  of the  ramp almost blocked  my further
progress. It  would be a narrow  squeeze to pass between  them and I feared
detection.  As  I  paused  I could  not  but  overhear their  conversation.

"I tell you that  he was struck from behind," said one. "He never knew what
killed him,"  and I knew that  they were talking about  the guardsman I had
killed.

"But from whence came his assassin?" demanded the other.

"The padwar  believes it may have been a fellow  member of the guard. There
will   be   an   investigation   and   we   shall   all   be   questioned."

"It was not I," said the other. "He was my best friend."

"Nor was it I."

"He had a way with women. Perhaps–"

My  attention  was  distracted and  their  conversation  terminated by  the
footsteps of  a warrior  running rapidly up  the ramp. My  position was now
most precarious.  The ramp was narrow and the  man coming from behind might
easily bump  into me. I must, therefore,  pass the sentries immediately and
make my way to the roof. There was just sufficient room between the warrior
at my left and  the sidewall of the ramp for me to  pass through, if he did
not step back, and  with all the stealth that I could summon I edged myself
slowly behind him and you may rest assured that I breathed a sigh of relief
when I had passed him.

The warrior  ascending the ramp had now reached  the two men. "The assassin
of the hangar sentry has been discovered," he said.

"He  is none other  than the spy  from Jahar  who called himself  Hadron of
Hastor and who, with the other spy, Nur An, was sentenced to die The Death.
Through some miracle he escaped and has returned to the palace of Haj Osis.
Besides the hangar sentry,  he has slain Yo Seno, but he was captured after
attacking the prince, Haj  Alt. Again he has escaped and he is now at large
in  the palace.  The  padwar of  the guard  has  sent me  to direct  you to
redouble your  watchfulness. Great will  be the reward of  him who captures
Hadron of Hastor, dead or alive."

"By my metal, I'd  like to see him try to escape this way," said one of the
sentries.

"He'll never come here by daylight."

I smiled  as I walked quickly toward the hangar.  To reach the roof without
disarranging  my  robe  of   invisibility  was  difficult,  but  I  finally
accomplished it. Before me  lay the empty roof; no ship was in sight, but I
smiled again to myself,  knowing well that it was there. I looked about for
the eye of the  periscope that would reveal the craft's presence to me, but
it  was not  visible.  However, that  did not  concern  me greatly  since I
realized that  it might  be turned in  the opposite direction.  It was only
necessary for me to walk where I had left the ship, and this I did, feeling
ahead of me with extended hands.

I crossed  the roof from one  side to the other, but  found no ship. That I
was perplexed  goes without saying. I most certainly  knew where I had left
the ship, but it no longer was there. Perhaps a wind had moved it slightly,
and with  this thought in mind I searched another  section of the roof, but
with equal disappointment. By now I was truly apprehensive, and thereupon I
set about a systematic  search of the roof until I had covered every square
foot of  it and was convinced beyond doubt that  the worst of disasters had
befallen  me  –  my  ship was  gone;  but  where?  Indeed  the compound  of
invisibility had  its drawbacks.  My ship might  be and probably  was at no
great distance  from me, yet I could not see it.  A gentle wind was blowing
from the southwest. If my ship had risen from the roof, it would drift in a
northeasterly direction, but though I strained my eyes toward that point of
the  compass I  could discern  nothing of  the tiny  eye of  the periscope.

I must admit that  for a moment I was well-nigh discouraged. It seemed that
always when success was  about within my grasp some malign fate snatched it
from  me, but  presently I  shook this  weak despondency  from me  and with
squared  shoulders   faced  the   future  and  whatever   it  might  bring.

For a few moments I considered my position in all its aspects and sought to
discover the  best solution of my problem. I must  rescue Tavia, but I felt
that it  would be useless to  attempt to do so  without a ship, therefore I
must have a  ship, and I knew that ships were just  beneath me in the royal
hangars. At night these hangars would be closed and locked and watched over
by sentries in the  bargain. If I would have a ship I  must take it now and
depend  upon  the  swiftness  and  boldness  of  my act  for  its  success.

Royal fliers  are usually fast fliers and if the ships  of Haj Osis were no
exception  to this  general Barsoomian  rule, I  might hope  to outdistance
pursuit could I but pass the hangar sentry.

Of one  thing I was certain, I could not  accomplish that by remaining upon
the roof  of the  hangar and so  I cautiously descended,  choosing a moment
when the  attention of the  sentries was directed elsewhere,  for there was
always  danger  that  my   robe  might  blow  aside,  revealing  my  limbs.

Once on the roof again I slipped quickly into the hangar and inspecting the
ships I selected one that I was sure would carry four with case, and which,
from its lines, gave token of considerable speed.

Clambering to  the deck I took  my place at the  controls; very gradually I
elevated the  ship about a foot from the floor;  then I opened the throttle
wide.

Directly ahead of me, through the open doorways of the hangar, the sentries
were standing  upon the opposite side of the room.  As the ship leaped into
the sunlight  they voiced simultaneously a cry  of surprise and alarm. Like
brave warriors  they sprang forward with drawn long  swords and I could see
that they  were going to try to board me before  I could gain altitude, but
presently one of them halted wide-eyed and stood aside.

"Blood  of  our  first  ancestors!" he  cried.  "There  is  no  one at  the
controls."

The second  man had evidently discovered  this simultaneously, for he, too,
shrank  aside, and  with whirling  propeller I  shot upward from  the royal
hangar of the Jed of Tjanath.

But only for an  instant were the two sentries overwhelmed by astonishment.
Immediately I  heard the shriek of sirens and the  clang of great gongs and
then,  glancing behind,  I saw that  already they  had launched a  flier in
pursuit. It  was a two-man flier and almost  immediately I realized that it
was far  swifter than the one  I had chosen, and  then to make matters even
worse for me I saw patrol boats arising from hangars located elsewhere upon
the palace roof. That  they all saw my ship and were converging upon it was
evident;  escape seemed  impossible; each  way I  turned a patrol  boat was
approaching; already  I had been  driven into an ascending  spiral, my eyes
constantly  alert  for  any  avenue  of  escape  that  might  open  to  me.

How  hopeless  it looked!  My  ship was  too  slow; my  pursuers too  many.

It  would not  be  long now,  I thought,  and  at that  very instant  I saw
something off my port  bow at a little greater altitude that gave me one of
the  greatest thrills  I had  ever experienced  in my  life. It was  only a
little round eye of  glass, but to me it meant life and more than life, for
it might mean also  life and happiness for Tavia – and of course for Sanoma
Tora.

A patrol boat coming  diagonally from below was almost upon me as I drew my
flier beneath that floating eye, judging the distance so nicely that I just
had clearance for my  head beneath the keel of my own ship. Locating one of
the hatches,  which were  so constructed that  they opened either  from the
inside or  the out, I scrambled quickly into the  interior of the Jhama, as
Phor Tak had christened it.

Closing  the hatch  and springing to  the controls,  I rose quickly  out of
immediate danger. Then, standing to one side, I watched my former pursuers.

I could  read the consternation in  their faces as they  came alongside the
royal  flier that  I had  stolen, and  realized that  it was  unmanned. Not
having seen  either me or  my ship, they must  have been hard put  to it to
find any sort of an explanation for the phenomenon.

As I  watched them I found  it constantly necessary to  change my position,
owing to  the number of patrol  boats and other craft  that congregating. I
did not  wish to  leave the vicinity of  the palace entirely for  it was my
intention to remain here  until after dark when I should make an attempt to
take  Tavia  and Phao  aboard  the  Jhama. I  also  had  it in  my mind  to
reconnoiter the east tower during the day and try to get into communication
with Tavia if possible. It was already the fifth zode. In fifty xats (three
hours) the sun would set.

I wished  to initiate my plan of rescue as soon  after dark as possible, as
experience had  taught me that plans  do not always develop  as smoothly in
execution as they do in contemplation.

A warrior  from one of the patrol ships had boarded  the royal craft that I
had purloined  and was returning it  to the hangar. Some  of the ships were
following and others were returning to their stations. A single patrol boat
remained cruising about and  as I watched it I suddenly became aware that a
young officer standing upon  its deck had espied the eye of my periscope. I
saw him pointing toward it and immediately thereafter the craft altered its
course and came directly toward me. This was not so good and I lost no time
in moving  to one side, turning  the eye of my  periscope away from them so
that they could not see it or follow me.

I moved  a short distance out  of their course and  then swung my periscope
toward  them again.  To my  astonishment I  discovered that they,  too, had
altered their course and were following me.

Now I  rose swiftly and took  a new direction, but  when I looked again the
craft was  bearing down upon me  and not only that,  but she was training a
gun on me.

What had happened? It  was evident that something had gone wrong and that I
was no  longer clothed in total  invisibility, but whatever it  was, it was
too late now to rectify it even if I could. I had but a single recourse and
I prayed to my  first ancestor that it might not now be  too late to put it
into execution. Should they fire upon me, I was lost.

I brought the Jhama to a full stop and sprang quickly aft to where the rear
rifle   was  mounted  on   a  platform   just  within  the   after  turret.

In  that  instant I  had  occasion to  rejoice  in the  foresight that  had
prompted me to rearrange the projectiles properly against the necessity for
instant use  in such an emergency as this. Selecting  one, I jammed it into
the chamber  and closed the  breech block. The turret,  crudely and hastily
constructed though it had  been, responded to my touch and an instant later
my  sight  covered the  approaching  patrol  vessel, and  through the  tiny
opening provided for the sight I witnessed the effect of my first shot with
Phor Taks disintegrating ray rifle.

I had used a  metal disintegrating projectile and the result was appalling.

I loved a ship and it tore my heart to see that staunch craft fall apart in
midair  as  its  metal parts  disappeared  before  the disintegrating  ray.

But that  was not all, as wood and leather  and fabric sank with increasing
swiftness toward  the ground, brave warriors hurtled  to their doom. It was
horrifying.

I  am  a true  son  of  Barsoom; I  joy  in  battle; armed  conflict is  my
birthright, and  war the goal of my ambition, but this  was not war; it was
murder.

I took  no joy  in my victory  as I had when  I laid Yo Seno  low in mortal
combat,  and now,  more  than ever,  was I  determined that  this frightful
instrument of destruction must  in some way be forever banned upon Barsoom.
War with  such a weapon  completely hidden by the  compound of invisibility
would be  too horrible to contemplate.  Navies, cities, whole nations could
be wiped  out by a single  battle thus equipped. The  mad dream of Phor Tak
might   easily   come   true   and  a   maniac   yet   rule  all   Barsoom.

But meditation and philosophizing  were not for me at this time. I had work
to do  and though it necessitated wiping out  all Tjanath, I purposed doing
it.

Again the sirens and  the gongs raised their wild alarm; again patrol boats
gathered. I  felt that  I must depart  until after nightfall, for  I had no
stomach to  again be  forced to turn  that deadly rifle upon  my fellow men
while any alternative existed.

As I started to  turn back the controls my eyes chanced to fall upon one of
the stern ports and, to my surprise, I saw that the shutter was raised. How
this occurred I do not know; it has always remained a mystery, but at least
it explained  how it  had been possible  for the patrol boat  to follow me.
That  round port  hole moving through  the air  must have filled  them with
wonder, but  at the same time  it was a clue to  follow and though they did
not understand  it, they, like the brave  warriors that they were, followed
it in the line of their duty.

I quickly  closed it, and, after examining the  others and finding them all
closed, I was now confident that, with the exception of the small eye of my
periscope,  I was entirely  surrounded by  invisibility and hence  under no
immediate  necessity for  leaving the  vicinity of  the palace, as  I could
easily maneuver  the ship to keep  out of the way  of the patrol boats that
were now again congregating near the royal hangar.

I  think they  were pretty much  upset by  what had happened  and evidently
there was  no unanimity  of opinion as  to what should be  done. The patrol
ships hovered about, evidently  waiting orders, and it was not until almost
dark that  they set out in  a systematic search of  the air above the city;
nor had they been  long at this before I understood their orders as well as
though I had read  them myself. The lower ships moved at an altitude of not
over fifty  feet above the  higher buildings; two hundred  feet above these
moved  the second  line. The  ships at  each level  cruised in a  series of
concentric  circles and  in  opposite directions,  thereby combing  the air
above the  city so closely that no enemy  ship could possibly approach. The
air  below  was watched  by  a thousand  eyes;  at every  point of  vantage
sentries  were on  watch and upon  the roof  of every public  building guns
appeared as if by magic.

I began  to be quite apprehensive  that even the small  eye of my periscope
might  not go undetected  and so I  dropped my  ship into a  little opening
among  some lofty  trees that  grew within  the palace  garden, and  here I
waited some twenty feet  above the ground, my periscope completely screened
from  view, unseen and,  in consequence,  myself unseeing, until  the swift
night of  Barsoom descended upon Tjanath; then I  rose slowly from my leafy
retreat.

Above the trees I paused to have a look about me through the periscope. Far
above me were the  twinkling lights of the circling patrol boats and from a
thousand windows of the  palace shone other lights. Before me rose the dark
outlines   of  the   east  tower   silhouetted  against  the   starry  sky.

Rising slowly  I circled the tower  until I had brought  the Jhama opposite
Tavia's window.

My ship carried no  lights, of course, and I had not switched on any of the
lights within  her cabin, so that  I felt that I  might with impunity raise
one of the upper hatches, and this I did. The Jhama lay with her upper deck
a foot  or two  beneath the sill  of Tavia's window.  Before venturing from
below I replaced my cloak of invisibility about me.

There was no light  in Tavia's room. I placed my ear close against the iron
bars and listened. I could hear no sound. My heart sank within me. Could it
be that they had  removed her to some other part of the palace? Could it be
that  Haj  Alt  had come  and  taken  her away?  I  shuddered  at the  mere
suggestion and  cursed the luck that had permitted  him to escape my blade.

With all  those eyes  and ears straining  through the darkness  I feared to
make the  slightest sound, though  I felt that there  was little likelihood
that the  open hatch  would be noticed  in the surrounding  darkness; yet I
must ascertain  whether or not Tavia  was within that room.  I leaned close
against  the   bars  and  whispered  her   name.  There  was  no  response.

"Tavia!" I  whispered, this time much  louder, and it seemed  to me that my
voice  went booming  to  high heaven  in tones  that  the dead  might hear.

This time I heard a response from the interior of the room. It sounded like
a gasp and then  I beard someone moving – approaching the window. It was so
dark  in the interior  that I could  see nothing,  but presently I  beard a
voice close to me.

"Hadron! Where are you?"

She had  recognized my voice. For some reason I  thrilled to the thought of
it. "Here at the window, Tavia," I said.

She   came  very   close.  "Where?"   she  asked.   "I  cannot   see  you."

I had forgotten my  robe of invisibility. "Never mind," I said. "You cannot
see   me,  but   I   will  explain   that   later.  Is   Phao  with   you?"

"Yes."

"And no one else?"

"No."

"I am going to take you with me, Tavia – you and Phao. Stand aside well out
of line of the window so that you will not be hurt while I remove the bars.
Then be ready to board my ship immediately."

"Your ship!" she said. "Where is it?"

"Never mind now. There  is a ship here. Do just as I tell you. Do you trust
me?"

"With my life, Hadron, forever," she whispered.

Something within me sang.  It was more than a mere thrill; I cannot explain
it; nor  did I understand it, but now there were  other things to think of.

"Stand aside  quickly, Tavia,  and keep Phao  away from the  window until I
call you again."  Dimly I could see her figure for a  moment and than I saw
it  withdraw from  the  window. Returning  to  the controls  I brought  the
forward turret  of the ship opposite  the window, upon the  bars of which I
trained the  rifle. I  loaded it and  pressed the button.  Through the tiny
sight  aperture and  because of  the darkness  I could  see nothing  of the
result, but I knew perfectly well what had happened, and when I lowered the
ship again and went on deck I found that the bars had vanished in thin air.

"Quick, Tavia," I said. "Come!"

With one foot upon the deck of the flier and the other upon the sill of the
window, I held the  ship close to the wall of the tower and as best I could
I held  the cloak  of invisibility like  a canopy to shield  the girls from
sight as they boarded the Jhama.

It was  difficult and risky business.  I wished I might  have had grappling
hooks, but I had  none and so I must do the best I could, holding the cloak
with  one   hand  and  assisting   Tavia  to  the  sill   with  the  other.

"There   is   no   ship,"   she   said   in   slightly   frightened   tone.

"There is a ship,  Tavia," I said. "Think only of your confidence in me and
do as I bid."  I grasped her firmly by the harness where the straps crossed
upon her  back. "Have no  fear," I said and  then I swung her  out over the
hatch   and  lowered   her  gently   into  the   interior  of   the  Jhama.

Phao was  behind her and I must give her credit  for being as courageous as
Tavia. It must have been a terrifying experience to those two girls to feel
that they were being lowered into thin air a hundred feet above the ground,
for they could see  no ship – only a darker hole within the darkness of the
night.

As soon as they  were both aboard, I followed them, closing the hatch after
me.

They  were huddled  in the  darkness on  the floor  of the cabin,  weak and
exhausted from  the brief ordeal through which they  had just passed, but I
could  not take the  time then to  answer the  questions with which  I knew
their heads must be filled.

If we  passed the watchers on  the roofs and the  patrol boats above, there
would be  plenty of  time for questions  and answers. If we  did not, there
would be no need for either.

Thirteen

                             TUL AXTAR'S WOMEN

WITH PROPELLERS MOVING only  enough to give us headway, we moved slowly and
silently from  the tower.  I did not  dare to rise  to the  altitude of the
circling  fliers for  fear  of almost  inevitable collision,  owing  to the
limited range of visibility  permitted by the periscope, and so I held to a
course that carried me  only above the roof of the lower part of the palace
until I  reached a  broad avenue that  led in an easterly  direction to the
outer wall of the  city. I kept well down below the roofs of the buildings,
where  there was little  likelihood of  encountering other craft.  Our only
danger of detection now, and that was slight indeed, was that our propeller
might be  overheard by some of  the watchers on the  roofs, but the hum and
drone of  the propellers of the ships above the  city must have drowned out
whatever slight  sound our slowly revolving blades  gave forth, and at last
we  came to  the  gate at  the end  of the  avenue, and  rising to  top its
battlements, we passed out  of Tjanath into the night beyond. The lights of
the city and of the circling patrol boats above grew fainter and fainter as
we left them far behind.

We had maintained absolute  silence during our escape from the city, but as
soon as our escape  appeared assured, Tavia unlocked the flood gates of her
curiosity. Phao's first question was relative to Nur An. Her sigh of relief
held as  great assurance of her love for him as  could words have done. The
two listened in breathless  attention to the story of our miraculous escape
from The Death. Then  they wanted to know all about the Jhama, the compound
of invisibility  and the disintegrating ray with  which I had dissolved the
bars from  their prison window. Nor  was it until their  curiosity had been
appeased  that  we  were   able  to  discuss  our  plans  for  the  future.

"I feel that I should go at once to Jahar," I said.

"Yes," said Tavia in a low voice. "It is your duty. You must go there first
and rescue Sanoma Tora."

"If there was only some place where I might leave you and Phao in safety, I
should feel  that I could carry  on this mission with  far greater peace of
mind, but  I know  of no other  place than Jhama  and I  hesitate to return
there and let  Phor Tak know that I failed to go  immediately to Jahar as I
had intended. The man is quite insane. There is no telling what he might do
if he learns  the truth; nor am I certain that you  two would be safe there
in his power. He trusts only his slaves and he might easily become obsessed
with an hallucination that you are spies."

"You need  not think  of me at all,"  said Tavia, "for no  matter where you
might find a place to leave us, I should not remain. The place of the slave
is with her master."

"Do not say that, Tavia. You are not my slave."

"I am  a slave girl," she replied. "I must be  someone's slave. I prefer to
be yours."

I was  touched by her loyalty,  but I did not  like to think of  Tavia as a
slave; yet however much  I might loathe the idea the fact remained that she
was one. "I give you your freedom, Tavia," I said.

She smiled.  "I do  not want it  and now that  it is  decided that I  am to
remain with you" (she had done all the deciding), "I wish to learn all that
I can about navigating the Jhama, for it may be that in that way I may help
you."

Tavia's  knowledge of aerial  navigation made  the task of  instructing her
simple indeed; in fact she had no trouble whatsoever in handling the craft.

Phao also manifested an  interest and it was not long before she, too, took
her turn at the controls, while Tavia insisted upon being inducted into all
the mysteries of the disintegrating ray rifle.

Long before we saw  the towers of Tul Axtar's capital, we sighted a one-man
flier painted  the ghastly blue of Jahar, and then far  to the right and to
the left  we saw others. They  were circling slowly at  a great altitude. I
judged that  they were scouts watching for the  coming of an expected enemy
fleet. We passed below  them and a little later encountered the second line
of enemy ships. These were all scout cruisers, carrying from ten to fifteen
men.  Approaching one  of them  quite closely  I saw  that it  carried four
disintegrating ray  rifles, two  mounted forward and  two aft. As  far as I
could  see in  either  direction these  ships were  visible,  and if,  as I
presumed, they  formed a circle  entirely about Jahar, they  must have been
numerous indeed.

Passing on beyond them  we presently encountered the third line of Jaharian
ships. Here  were stationed huge battleships,  carrying crews of a thousand
men and more and fairly bristling with big guns.

While none  of these ships was as large as the  major ships of Helium, they
constituted a  most formidable force and it was  obvious that they had been
built in great numbers.

What  I had  already seen  impressed me  with the  fact that Tul  Axtar was
entertaining no  idle dream in his  contemplated subjection of all Barsoom.
With but  a fraction of the  ships I had already  seen I would guarantee to
lay waste all of  Barsoom, provided my ships were armed with disintegrating
ray rifles, and  I felt sure that I had seen but  a pitiful fraction of Tul
Axtar's vast armament.

The  sight of  all these  ships filled  me with  the direct  forebodings of
calamity.  If  the  fleet  of  Helium  had  not already  arrived  and  been
destroyed, it  certainly must be destroyed when it  did arrive. No power on
earth  could save it.  The best that  I could  hope, had the  fleet already
arrived, was  that an encounter  with the disintegrating ray  rifles of the
first line might have  proved sufficient warning to turn the balance of the
fleet back.

Far behind  the line of battleships I could see  the towers of Jahar rising
in the  distance, and as we  reached the vicinity of  the city I descried a
fleet of  the largest ships I have ever seen,  resting upon the ground just
outside  the city wall.  These ships,  which completely encircled  the city
wall that  was visible  to us, must  have been capable  of accommodating at
least ten  thousand men each,  and from their construction  and their light
armaments, I assumed them to be transports. These, doubtless, were to carry
the  hordes of  hungry  Jaharian warriors  upon  the campaign  of loot  and
pillage that it was planned should destroy a world.

Contemplation of  this vast armada  prompted me to abandon  all other plans
and hasten  at once to Helium, that the alarm might  be spread and plans be
made  to thwart  the  mad ambition  of Tul  Axtar. My  mind was  a seething
caldron of  conflicting demands  upon me. Countless  times had I  risked my
life to reach  Jahar for but a single purpose and now  that I had arrived I
was called  upon to  turn back for  the fulfillment of another  purpose – a
larger, a more important  one, perhaps, but I am only human and so I turned
first  to the  rescue  of the  woman that  I loved,  determined immediately
thereafter to throw myself wholeheartedly into the prosecution of the other
enterprise  that duty  and inclination  demanded of  me. I argued  that the
slight  delay that  would  result would  in no  way jeopardize  the greater
cause, while  should I abandon Sanoma Tora  now there was little likelihood
that  I   would  ever   be  able  to   return  to  Jahar   to  her  succor.

With the great ghastly  blue fleet of Jahar behind us, we topped the city's
walls  and   moved  in  the   direction  of  the  palace   of  the  jeddak.

My plans  were well formulated. I  had discussed them again  and again with
Tavia, who had grown up in the palace of Tul Axtar.

At her  suggestion we were to  maneuver the Jhama to  a point directly over
the summit  of a slender tower,  upon which there was  not room to land the
flier,  but through which  I could gain  ingress to  the palace at  a point
close to the quarters of the women.

As we  had passed through the  three lines of Jaharian  ships, protected by
our coating  of the compound of invisibility, so  we passed the sentries on
the  city wall  and  the warriors  upon watch  in the  towers and  upon the
ramparts of the palace of the towers and upon the ramparts of the palace of
the jeddak,  and without incident worthy  of note I stopped  the Jhama just
above the summit of the tower that Tavia indicated.

"In about ten xats  (approximately thirty minutes) it will be dark," I said
to Tavia.  "If you find it  impractical to remain here  constantly, try and
return when dark has  fallen, for whether I am successful in finding Sanoma
Tora I  shall not attempt to  return to the Jhama  until night has fallen."

She  had told  me that there  was a  possibility that the  women's quarters
might be locked at  sunset and for this reason I was entering the palace by
daylight, though  I should have much  preferred not to risk  it until after
nightfall. Tavia  had also  assured me that  if I once  entered the women's
quarters I would have no difficulty in leaving even after they were locked,
as the  doors could  be opened from  the inside, the  precaution of locking
being taken not for  fear that the inmates would leave the quarters, but to
protect them against the  dangers of assassins and others with evil intent.

Adjusting  the robe  of invisibility  about me,  I raised the  forward keel
hatch, which  was directly over the summit of the  tower that had once been
used as a lookout  in some distant age before newer and loftier portions of
the palace had rendered it useless for this purpose.

"Good-bye and good luck," whispered Tavia. "When you return I hope that you
will bring your Sanoma Tora with you. While you are gone I shall pray to my
ancestors for your success."

Thanking  her, I  lowered myself  through the  hatch to  the summit  of the
tower, in which was set a small trap door.

As I  raised this door  I saw below me  the top of the  ancient ladder that
long dead  warriors had used and which evidently  was seldom, if ever, used
now as was attested by the dust upon its rungs. The ladder led me down to a
large room in  the upper level of this portion of the  palace – a room that
had  doubtless  originally  been  a  guard  room,  but which  was  now  the
receptacle  for  odds  and   ends  of  discarded  furniture,  hangings  and
ornaments. Filled as it  was with specimens of the craftsmanship of ancient
Jahar,  together with articles  of more  modern fabrication, it  would have
been  a most  interesting room  to explore;  yet I  passed through  it with
nothing  more than  a  single searching  glance for  live  enemies. Closely
following Tavia's instructions I  descended two spiral ramps, where I found
myself in  a most ornately decorated corridor,  opening upon which were the
apartments of  the women  of Tul Axtar.  The corridor was  long, stretching
away  fully a thousand  sofads to a  great, arched  window at the  far end,
through which I could see the waving foliage of trees.

Many of  the countless  doors that lined  the corridor on  either side were
open or  ajar, for the corridor  itself was forbidden to  all but the women
and their  slaves, with the exception of Tul Axtar.  The foot of the single
ramp leading  to it from the  level watched over by  a guard of picked men,
composed exclusively of eunuchs, and Tavia assured me that short shrift was
made  of any  adventurous spirit  who sought  to investigate  the precincts
above;  yet here was  I, a man  and an  enemy, safely within  the forbidden
territory.

As  I  looked  about  me in  attempt  to  determine  where  to commence  my
investigation,  several  women  emerged  from  one of  the  apartments  and
approached  me along  the corridor.  They were  beautiful women,  young and
richly  trapped, and  from their  light conversation  and their  laughter I
judged that  they were not unhappy. My conscience  pricked me as I realized
the mean  advantage that I was taking of them, but  it could not be avoided
and so  I waited and listened, hoping that I  might overhear some snatch of
conversation that  would aid me in my quest for  Sanoma Tora; but I learned
nothing from them other than that they referred to Tul Axtar contemptuously
as the old zitidar. Some of their references to him were extremely personal
and none was complimentary.

They passed me and  entered a large room at the end of the corridor. Almost
immediately  thereafter  other  women  emerged from  other  apartments  and
followed the first party into the same apartment.

It  soon became  evident  to me  that they  were  congregating there  and I
thought that perhaps this might be the best way in which to start my search
for  Sanoma  Tora  –   perhaps  she,  too,  might  be  among  the  company.

Accordingly I fell in  behind one of the groups and followed it through the
large doorway and a short corridor, which opened into a great hall that was
so gorgeously  appointed and decorated as  to suggest the throne  room of a
jeddak, and  in fact such appeared to have been a  part of its purpose, for
at one end rose an enormous, highly-carved throne.

The floor was highly polished wood, in the center of which was a large pool
of water.  Along the sides of the room  were commodious benches, piled with
pillows and  soft silks and furs.  Here it was that  Tul Axtar occasionally
held unique  court, surrounded  solely by his  women. Here they  danced for
him; here  they disported themselves in  the limpid waters of  the pool for
his diversion;  here banquets were spread and to  the strains of music high
revelry persisted long into the night.

As I  looked about me at those who had already  assembled I saw that Sanoma
Tora was not among  them and so I took my place close to the entrance where
I might scrutinize the face of each who entered.

They were  coming in droves now.  I believe that I  have never seen so many
women alone together before.  As I watched for Sanoma Tora I tried to count
them, but  I soon  gave, it up  as hopeless, though I  estimated that fully
fifteen hundred women were  congregated in the great hall when at last they
ceased to enter.

They seated  themselves upon the  benches about the room,  which was filled
with a babel of  feminine voices. There were women of all ages and of every
type, but  there was none that was not beautiful.  The secret agents of Tul
Axtar must  have combed the world for such  an aggregation of loveliness as
this.

A door at one  side of the throne opened and a file of warriors entered. At
first I was surprised  because Tavia had told me that no men other than Tul
Axtar ever  were permitted  upon this level,  but presently I  saw that the
warriors were women dressed in the harness of men, their hair cut and their
faces painted, after the fashion of the fighting men of Barsoom. After they
had taken their places  on either side of the throne, a courtier entered by
the same door – another woman masquerading as a man.

"Give   thanks!"   she   cried.    "Give   thanks!   The   Jeddak   comes!"

Instantly the  women arose and a  moment later Tul Axtar,  Jeddak of Jahar,
entered  the hall,  followed by  a group  of women disguised  as courtiers.

As Tul  Axtar lowered his great bulk into the  throne, he signalled for the
women in  the room to be  seated. Then he spoke  in a low voice  to a woman
courtier at his side.

The woman  stepped to  the edge of  the dais. "The great  Jeddak designs to
honor  you  individually  with his  royal  observation,"  she announced  in
stilted tones.  "From my left you will pass before him,  one by one. In the
name of the Jeddak, I have spoken."

Immediately the  first woman at the  left arose and walked  slowly past the
throne, pausing in front of Tul Axtar long enough to turn completely about,
and then walked slowly  on around the apartment and out through the doorway
beside which  I stood. One by  one in rapid succession  the others followed
her. The  whole procedure seemed meaningless to  me. I could not understand
it – then.

Perhaps a hundred women had passed before the Jeddak and come down the long
ball toward  me when something in the carriage of  one of them attracted my
attention as she neared  me, and an instant later I recognized Sanoma Tora.
She was changed, but not greatly and I could not understand why it was that
I had not discovered her in the room previously. I had found her! After all
these long months I had found her – the woman I loved. Why did my heart not
thrill?

As she  passed through the doorway leading from  the great hall, I followed
her and  along the corridor to an apartment near the  far end, and when she
entered, I  entered behind her. I had to move  quickly, too, for she turned
immediately and closed the door after her.

We were  alone in a small  room, Sanoma Tora and I.  In one corner were her
sleeping silks and furs;  between two windows was a carved bench upon which
stood  those toilet  articles  that are  essential to  a woman  of Barsoom.

It was not the apartment of a Jeddara; it was a little better than the cell
of a slave.

As  Sanoma Tora  crossed  the room  listlessly toward  a stool  which stood
before the  toilet bench, her back was toward me and  I dropped the robe of
invisibility from about me.

"Sanoma Tora!" I said in a low voice.

Startled, she turned toward me. "Hadron of Hastor!" she exclaimed; "or am I
dreaming?"

"You   are  not   dreaming,  Sanoma   Tora.  It   is  Hadron   of  Hastor."

"Why are you  here? How did you get here? It is  impossible. No men but Tul
Axtar are permitted upon this level."

"Here I  am, Sanoma Tora, and  I have come to take you  back to Helium – if
you wish to return."

"Oh  name  of  my  first  ancestor,  if  I  could  but  hope,"  she  cried.

"You may hope,  Sanoma Tora," I assured her. "I am here  and I can take you
back."

"I cannot believe it,"  she said. "I cannot imagine how you gained entrance
here.  It is  madness to  think that  two of  us could leave  without being
detected."

I threw the cloak  about me. "Where are you, Tan Hadron? What has become of
you? What has happened?" cried Sanoma Tora.

"This  is  how I  gained  entrance," I  explained.  "This is  how we  shall
escape." I removed the cloak from about me.

"What forbidden  magic is this?" she demanded, and, as  best I might in few
words, I  explained to her the compound of invisibility  and how I had come
by it.

"How have you fared here, Sanoma Tora?" I asked her. "How have they treated
you?"

"I have not been  ill treated," she replied; "no one has paid any attention
to me." I could  scent the wounded vanity in her tone. "Until tonight I had
not seen  Tul Axtar.  I have just come  from the hall where  he holds court
among his women."

"Yes," I said, "I  know. I was there. It was from there that I followed you
here."

"When can you take me away?" she asked.

"Very quickly now," I replied.

"I am afraid that it will have to be quickly," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"When I passed  Tul Axtar he stopped me for a moment  and I heard him speak
to one of  the courtiers at his side. He told her  to ascertain my name and
where I was quartered.  The women have told me what happens after Tul Axtar
has noticed one of us, and I am afraid; but what difference does it make, I
am only a slave."

What  a change had  come over the  haughty Sanoma  Tora! Was this  the same
arrogant beauty  who had refused my hand? Was this  the Sanoma Tora who had
aspired to  be a jeddara? She  was humbled now – I read  it in the droop of
her shoulders, in the trembling of her lips, in the fear-haunted light that
shone from her eyes.

My  heart was  filled with  compassion for  her, but  I was  astonished and
dismayed to  discover that no  other emotion overwhelmed me.  The last time
that I had seen Sanoma Tora I would have given my soul to have been able to
take her  into my arms. Had  the hardships that I  had undergone so changed
me?  Was Sanoma  Tora,  a slave,  less desirable  to  me than  Sanoma Tora,
daughter of the  rich Tor Hatan? No; I knew that that  could not be true. I
had changed, but doubtless it was only a temporary metamorphosis induced by
the   nervous  strain   which   I  was   undergoing  consequent   upon  the
responsibility imposed upon me by the necessity for carrying word to Helium
in time  to save her from  destruction at the hands of  Tul Axtar – to save
not only Helium, but  a world. It was a grave responsibility. How might one
thus burdened  have time for thoughts of love? No, I  was not myself; yet I
knew that I still loved Sanoma Tora.

Realizing the necessity for  haste, I made a speedy examination of the room
and discovered  that I could  easily effect Sanoma Tora's  rescue by taking
her through  the window, just as  I had taken Tavia  and Phao from the east
tower at Tjanath.

Briefly,  but carefully,  I explained my  plan to  her and bid  her prepare
herself while I  was gone that there might be no delay  when I was ready to
take her aboard the Jhama.

"And now, Sanoma Tora,"  I said, "for a few moments, goodbye! The next that
you will hear will  be a voice at your window, but you  will see no one nor
any ship.  Extinguish the light in  your room and step  to the sill. I will
take  your   hand.  Put  your  trust   in  me  then  and   do  as  I  bid."

"Good-bye, Hadron!"  she said. "I cannot express  now in adequate words the
gratitude that I feel,  but when we are returned to Helium there is nothing
you can  demand of me that  I shall not grant  you, not only willingly, but
gladly."

I raised her fingers  to my lips and had turned toward the door when Sanoma
Tora  laid a  detaining hand  upon my  arm. "Wait!"  she said.  "Someone is
coming."

Hastily I  resumed my cloak of invisibility and stepped  to one side of the
room as the door, leading into the corridor, was thrown open, revealing one
of the female courtiers of Tul Axtar in gorgeous harness. The woman entered
the  room and  stepped to one  side of  the doorway which  remained opened.

"The Jeddak! Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar!" she announced.

A moment later Tul  Axtar entered the room, followed by half a dozen of his
female  courtiers.  He  was  a gross  man  with  repulsive features,  which
reflected a combination of  strength and weakness, of haughty arrogance, of
pride  and   of  doubt  –  an  innate   questioning  of  his  own  ability.

As he faced Sanoma Tora his courtiers formed behind him.

They were masculine looking  women, who had evidently been selected because
of this very characteristic.  They were good looking in a masculine way and
their physiques suggested that they might prove a very effective body guard
for the Jeddak.

For several minutes Tul Axtar examined Sanoma Tora with appraising eyes. He
came closer to her and there was that in his attitude which I did not like,
and when  he laid a hand upon her shoulder,  I could scarce retrain myself.

"I  was not  wrong," he  said. "You  are gorgeous.  How long have  you been
here?"

She shuddered, but did not reply.

"You are from Helium?"

No answer.

"The ships  of Helium  are on their  way to Jahar." He  laughed. "My scouts
bring word that they  will soon be here. They will meet with a warm welcome
from the  great fleet of Tul  Axtar." He turned to  his courtiers. "Go!" he
said, "and let none return until I summon her."

They bowed  and retired,  closing the door  after them, and  then Tul Axtar
laid  his  hand  again  upon the  bare  flesh  of  Sanoma Tora's  shoulder.

"Come!" he  said. "I shall  not war with all  of Helium – with  you I shall
love –  by my  first ancestor, but  you are worthy  the love  of a jeddak."

He  drew her  toward him. My  blood boiled –  so hot  was my anger  that it
boiled over  and without thought of  the consequences I let  the cloak fall
from me.

Fourteen

                           THE CANNIBALS OF U-GOR

As I DROPPED THE CLOAK of invisibility aside I drew my long sword and as it
slithered from  its sheath, Tul Axtar beard and  faced me. His craven blood
rushed to his heart and left his face pale at the sight of me. A scream was
in his throat when my point touched him in warning.

"Silence!" I hissed.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Silence!"

Even in  the instant  my plans were formed.  I made him turn  with his back
toward me  and then  I disarmed him,  after which I bound  him securely and
gagged him.

"Where can I hide him, Sanoma Tora?" I asked.

"There is a little  closet here," she said, pointing toward a small door in
one side  of the room,  and then she crossed  to it and opened  it, while I
dragged Tul Axtar behind her and cast him into the closet – none too gently
I can assure you.

As  I  closed the  closet  door  I turned  to  find Sanoma  Tora white  and
trembling. "I  am afraid," she said. "If they come  back and find him thus,
they will kill me."

"His courtiers will not return until he summons them," I reminded her. "You
heard  him   tell  them  that   such  were  his  wishes   –  his  command."

She nodded.

"Here is  his dagger,"  I told her. "If  worse comes to worst  you can hold
them off by threatening  to kill Tul Axtar," but the girl seemed terrified,
she trembled in  every limb and I feared that she might  fail if put to the
test. How  I wished that Tavia  were here. I knew  that she would not fail,
and,  in the  name of my  first ancestor,  how much depended  upon success!

"I shall return soon,"  I said, as I groped about the floor for the robe of
invisibility. "Leave  that large window open and  when I return, be ready."

As I replaced  the cloak about me I saw that she  was trembling so that she
could not  reply; in  fact, she was  even having difficulty  in holding the
dagger,  which  I  expected  momentarily to  see  drop  from her  nerveless
fingers, but  there was naught that I could do but  hasten to the Jhama and
try to return before it was too late.

I gained  the summit of the  tower without incident. Above  me twinkled the
brilliant stars  of a  Barsoomian night, while  just above the  palace roof
hung the gorgeous planet, Jasoom (Earth).

The  Jhama, of  course, was invisible,  but so  great was my  confidence in
Tavia that  when I  stretched a hand upward  I knew that I  should feel the
keel of  the craft and sure enough I did. Three  times I rapped gently upon
the forward Hatch, which  was the signal that we had determined upon before
I had entered the palace. Instantly the hatch was raised and a moment later
I had clambered aboard.

"Where is Sanoma Tora?" asked Tavia.

"No questions now," I replied. "We must work quickly. Be ready to take over
the controls the moment that I leave them."

In silence  she took  her place at  my side, her soft  shoulder touching my
arm, and in silence  I dropped the Jhama to the level of the windows in the
women's quarters.  In a  general way I  knew the location  of Sanoma Tora's
apartment, and as I  moved slowly along I kept the periscope pointed toward
the windows  and presently I saw the figure of  Sanoma Tora upon the ground
glass before me. I brought the Jhama close to the sill, her upper deck just
below it.

"Hold her here, Tavia,"  I said. Then I raised the upper hatch a few inches
and called to the girl within the room.

At  the sound  of  my voice  she trembled  so that  she almost  dropped the
dagger,  although  she must  have  known that  I  was coming  and had  been
awaiting me.

"Darken  your room,"  I whispered  to her.  I saw  her stagger across  to a
button that was set in the wall and an instant later the room was enveloped
in darkness.  Then I  raised the hatch and  stepped to the sill.  I did not
wish to be bothered with the enveloping folds of the mantle of invisibility
and so I had folded it up and tucked it into my harness, where I could have
it instantly  ready for  use in the  event of an emergency.  I found Sanoma
Tora in the darkness and so weak with terror was she that I had to lift her
in my arms and carry her to the window, where with Phao's help I managed to
draw her  through the open hatch into the interior.  Then I returned to the
closet where  Tul Axtar lay bound  and gagged. I stopped  and cut the bonds
which held his ankles.

"Do precisely as I tell you, Tul Axtar," I said, "or my steel will have its
way yet  and find your heart.  It thirsts for your  blood, Tul Axtar, and I
have  difficulty in restraining  it, but if  you do  not fail me  perhaps I
shall be  able to  save you yet.  I can use  you, Tul Axtar,  and upon your
usefulness  to me  depends your  life, for  dead you  are no value  to me."

I made  him rise  and walk to  the window and  there I assisted  him to the
sill. He was terror-stricken  when I tried to make him step out into space,
as he thought, but when I stepped to the deck of the Jhama ahead of him and
he saw me apparently  floating there in the air, he took a little heart and
I finally succeeded in getting him aboard.

Following him I closed  the hatch and lighted a single dim light within the
hull. Tavia turned and looked at me for orders.

"Hold her where she is, Tavia," I said.

There was  a tiny desk in  the cabin of the Jhama  where the officer of the
ship  was supposed  to  keep his  log and  attend to  any other  records or
reports that  it might be  necessary to make. Here  were writing materials,
and as I got  them out of the drawer in which they were kept, I called Phao
to my side.

"You  are  of Jahar."  I  said.  "You can  write  in the  language of  your
country?"

"Of course," she said.

"Then write what I dictate," I instructed her.

She prepared to do my bidding.

"If a single ship of Helium is destroyed," I dictated, "Tul Axtar dies. Now
sign it Hadron of Hastor, Padwar of Helium."

Tavia and  Phao looked at me  and then at the  prisoner, their eyes wide in
astonishment,  for in  the dim light  of the  ship's interior they  had not
recognized the prisoner.

"Tul Axtar of Jahar."  breathed Tavia incredulously. "Tan Hadron of Hastor,
you have saved Helium and Barsoom tonight."

I could  not but note how  quickly her mind functioned,  with what celerity
she had seen the  possibilities that lay in the possession of the person of
Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar."

I took  the note  that Phao had  written, and, returning  quickly to Sanoma
Tora's room, I laid  it upon her dressing table. A moment later I was again
in the  cabin of  the Jhama and we  were rising swiftly above  the roofs of
Jahar."

Morning found us beyond the uttermost line of Jaharian ships, beneath which
we had  passed, guided by their lights – evidence to  me that the fleet was
poorly officered,  for no trained  man, expecting an enemy  in force, would
show lights aboard his ships at night.

We were  speeding now in the direction of  far Helium, following the course
that I  hoped would permit us to intercept the fleet  of the Warlord in the
event  that it  was already  bound for  Jahar as  Tul Axtar  had announced.

Sanoma Tora  had slightly  recovered her poise  and control of  her nerves.
Tavia's sweet solicitude for her welfare touched me deeply. She had soothed
and quieted  her as  she might have  soothed and quieted  a younger sister,
though she  herself was  younger than Sanoma  Tora, but with  the return of
confidence Sanoma Tora's old  haughtiness was returning and it seemed to me
that she  showed too  little gratitude to  Tavia for her  kindliness, but I
realized that that was  Sanoma Tora's way, that it was born in her and that
doubtless  deep  in her  heart  she  was fully  appreciative and  grateful.
However that may be,  I cannot but admit that I wished at the time that she
would  show  it by  some  slight word  or  deed. We  were flying  smoothly,
slightly above the normal  altitude of battleships. The destination control
compass  was holding  the Jhama  to her  course, and  after all that  I had
passed  through, I  felt the  need of  sleep. Phao,  at my  suggestion, had
rested earlier  in the night, and  as all that was  needed was a lookout to
keep a  careful watch for ships,  I entrusted this duty  to Phao, and Tavia
and  I rolled  up  in our  sleeping silks  and furs  and were  soon asleep.

Tavia  and  I  were  about mid-ship,  Phao  was  forward  at the  controls,
constantly swinging  the periscope to and fro  searching the sky for ships.
When  I retired  Sanoma Tora  was standing  at one  of the  starboard ports
looking out  into the night, while  Tul Axtar lay down  in the stern of the
ship. I  had long since removed  the gag from his  mouth, but he seemed too
utterly  cowed even  to  address us  and lay  there  in morose  silence, or
perhaps he was asleep, I do not know.

I was  thoroughly fatigued and must  have slept like a  log from the moment
that I laid down until I was suddenly awakened by the impact of a body upon
me. As I struggled to free myself, I discovered to my chagrin that my hands
had been  deftly bound while I slept, a feat  that had been rendered simple
by the fact that it is my habit to sleep with my hands together in front of
my face.

A man's  knee was upon my  chest, pressing me heavily  against the deck and
one of his hands clutched me by the throat. In the dim light of the cabin I
saw  that  it  was  Tul Axtar  and  that  his  other  hand  held a  dagger.

"Silence!" he  whispered. "If you would  live, make no sound,"  and then to
make  assurance doubly  sure  he gagged  me and  bound  my ankles.  Then he
crossed quickly  to Tavia.  and bound her, and  as he did so  my eyes moved
quickly about  the interior  of the cabin  in search of aid.  On the floor,
near the controls, I  saw Phao lying bound and gagged as was I. Sanoma Tora
crouched against  the wall, apparently overcome  by terror. She was neither
bound nor  gagged. Why had  she not warned me?  Why had she not  come to my
help? If it had been Tavia who remained unbound instead of Sanoma Tora, how
different would  have been the outcome  of Tul Axtar's bid  for liberty and
revenge.

How had it all  happened? I was sure that I had bound Tul Axtar so securely
that he  could not  possibly have freed  himself, and yet I  must have been
mistaken and  I cursed  myself for the  carelessness that had  upset all my
plans  and  that  might   easily  eventually  spell  the  doom  of  Helium.

Having  disposed of  Phao, Tavia  and me,  Tul Axtar  moved quickly  to the
controls, ignoring  Sanoma Tora as he passed by her.  In view of the marked
terror  that she  displayed,  I could  readily  understand why  he did  not
consider her any  menace to his plans – she was as  harmless to him free as
bound.

Putting the  ship about he turned  back toward Jahar and  though he did not
understand the  mechanism of the destination  control compass and could not
cut it out, this made no difference as long as he remained at the controls,
the only effect that the compass might have being to return the ship to its
former course should the  controls be again abandoned while the ship was in
motion.

Presently he turned toward me. "I should destroy you, Hadron of Hastor," he
said,  "had  I  not  given  the  word  of  a  jeddak  that  I  would  not."

Vaguely I had wondered to whom he had given his word that he would not kill
me,  but other  and more  important thoughts  were racing through  my mind,
crowding  all else into  the background.  Uppermost among them,  of course,
were  plans   for  regaining   control  of  the   Jhama  and,  secondarily,
apprehension   as  to   the   fate  of   Tavia,  Sanoma   Tora   and  Phao.

"Give thanks  for the magnanimity of Tul  Axtar," he continued, "who exacts
no penalty for the affront you have put upon him. Instead you are to be set
free.  I shall  land  you." He  laughed. "Free!  I  shall land  you  in the
province of U-Gor!"

There was  something nasty in the tone of his  voice which made his promise
sound more like a threat. I had never heard of U-Gor, but I assumed that it
was some remote province from which it would be difficult or impossible for
me to make my way either to Jahar or Helium. Of one thing I was confident –
that Tul Axtar would not set me free any place that I might become a menace
to him.

For hours the Jhama  moved on in silence. Tul Axtar had not had the decency
or the  humanity to remove our gags. He was  engrossed with the business of
the controls,  and Sanoma  Tora, crouching against  the side of  the cabin,
never spoke;  nor once in all  that time did her  eyes turn toward me. What
thoughts were  passing in that beautiful head? Was  she trying to find some
plan by  which she might turn the tables upon Tul  Axtar, or was she merely
crushed by  the hopeless  outlook – the  prospect of being  returned to the
slavery of Jahar?  I did not know; I could not guess;  she was an enigma to
me.

How far  we traveled  or in what direction,  I did not know.  The night had
long since  passed and the sun was high when I  became aware that Tul Axtar
was bringing  the ship down. Presently the purring  of the motor ceased and
the ship  came to  a stop. Leaving the  controls he walked back  to where I
lay.

"We have arrived in  U-Gor," he said. "Here I shall set you at liberty, but
first give me the  strange thing that rendered you invisible in my palace."

The cloak of invisibility!  How had he learned of that? Who could have told
him? There  seemed but one explanation, but every  fiber of my being shrank
even from  considering it. I had rolled it up into  a small ball and tucked
it into  the bottom of my pocket pouch, its sheer  silk permitting it to be
compressed  into  a very  small  space.  He took  the  gag  from my  mouth.

"When you  return to  your palace at  Jahar," I said, "look  upon the floor
beneath the  window in the apartment  that was occupied by  Sanoma Tora. If
you find  it there you are  welcome to it. As far as  I am concerned it has
served its purpose well."

"Why did you leave it there?" he demanded.

"I was in a  great hurry when I quit the palace and accidents will happen."
I will admit that my lie may not have been very clever, but neither was Tul
Axtar and he was deceived by it.

Grumbling,  he opened  one  of the  keel hatches  and  very unceremoniously
dropped me  through it. Fortunately the ship lay close  to the ground and I
was not  injured. Next he lowered  Tavia to my side,  and then he, himself,
descended to  the ground. Stooping,  he cut the bonds  that secured Tavia's
wrists.

"I shall  keep the other," he said. "She pleases,"  and somehow I knew that
he meant Phao. "This  one looks like a man and I swear that she would be as
easy to  subdue as  a she banth.  I know the  type. I shall  leave her with
you." It was evident  that he had not recognized Tavia as one of the former
occupants of the women's  quarters in his palace and I was glad that he had
not.

He  re-entered the Jhama,  but before he  closed the  hatch he spoke  to us
again. "I  shall drop  your weapons when  we are where you  cannot use them
against me and you may thank the future Jeddara of Jahar for the clemency I
have shown you!"

Slowly the  Jhama rose.  Tavia was removing  the cords from  her ankles and
when she was free she came and fell to work upon the bonds that secured me,
but I  was too dazed,  too crushed by the  blow that had been  struck me to
realize  any other  fact  than that  Sanoma Tora,  the  woman I  loved, had
betrayed me,  for I fully realized  now what any one  but a fool would have
guessed  before –  that Tul  Axtar had bribed  her to  set him free  by the
promise that be would make her Jeddara of Jahar.

Well, her  ambition would be fulfilled, but at  what a hideous cost. Never,
if she  lived for a thousand  years could she look  upon herself or her act
with aught but contempt and loathing, unless she was far more degraded than
I could  possible believe.  No; she would  suffer, of that I  was sure; but
that thought gave me no pleasure. I loved her and I could not even now wish
her unhappiness.

As I  sat there on the  ground, my head bowed in misery.  I felt a soft arm
steal about my shoulders and a tender voice spoke close to my ear. "My poor
Hadron!"

That was  all; but those few  words embodied such a  wealth of sympathy and
understanding that, like some miraculous balm, they soothed the agony of my
tortured heart.

No one  but Tavia  could have spoken them.  I turned and taking  one of her
little  hands in mine,  I pressed it  to my  lips. "Loved friend,"  I said.
"Thanks be to all my ancestors that it was not you."

I do  not know what made me say that. The  words seemed to speak themselves
without  my volition,  and yet  when they  were spoken  there came to  me a
sudden realization  of the horror that I would have  felt had it been Tavia
who had  betrayed me. I could  not even contemplate it  without an agony of
pain. Impulsively I took her in my arms.

"Tavia," I  cried, "promise me that  you will never desert  me. I could not
live without you."

She put  her strong, young arms about my neck and  clung to me. "Never this
side of death," she  whispered, and then she tore herself from me and I saw
that she was weeping.

What a friend! I knew that I could never again love a woman, but what cared
I for that if I could have Tavia's friendship for life.

"We shall never part  again, Tavia," I said. "If our ancestors are kind and
we are permitted to return to Helium, you shall find a home in the house of
my father and a mother in my mother."

She dried her eyes  and looked at me with a strange wistful expression that
I could  not fathom,  and then, through  her tears, she smiled  – that odd,
quizzical little smile that I had seen before and that I did not understand
any more than I understood a dozen of her moods and expressions, which made
her so different from  other girls and which, I think, helped to attract me
toward her.  Her characteristics lay not all upon  the surface – there were
depths and undercurrents which  one might not easily fathom. Sometimes when
I expected her to cry, she laughed; and when I thought she should be happy,
she  wept, but  she never  wept as  I have  seen other  women weep  – never
hysterically,  for Tavia  never  lost control  of herself,  but  quietly as
though from a full  heart rather than from over-wrought nerves, and through
her tears there might burst a smile at the end.

I think that Tavia was quite the most wonderful girl that I have ever known
and as  I had come to  know her better and see more of  her, I had grown to
realize that  despite her  attempt at mannish  disguise to which  she still
clung,  she was quite  the most beautiful  girl that  I had ever  seen. Her
beauty was not like  that of Sanoma Tora, but as she looked up into my face
now the realization came to me quite suddenly, and for what reason I do not
know, that the beauty  of Tavia far transcended that of Sanoma Tora because
of the beauty of  the soul that, shining through her eyes, transfigured her
whole countenance.

Tul Axtar,  true to his promise, dropped our  weapons through a lower hatch
of  the  Jhama  and as  we  buckled  them on  we  listened  to the  rapidly
diminishing sound  of the propellers of the  departing craft. We were alone
and  on  foot  in  a  strange  and,  doubtless,  an  unhospitable  country,

"U-Gor!"  I   said.  "I  have   never  heard  of  it.   Have  you,  Tavia?"

"Yes," she said. "This  is one of the outlaying provinces of Jahar. Once it
was a  rich and thriving agricultural  country, but as it  fell beneath the
curse of  Tul Axtar's  mad ambition for  man power, the  population grew to
such  enormous proportions that  U-Gor could  not support its  people. Then
cannibalism started. It began  justly with the eating of the officials that
Tul Axtar had sent  to enforce his cruel decrees. An army was dispatched to
subdue the  province, but the  people were so numerous  that they conquered
the army  and ate the warriors. By this time  their farms were ruined. They
had  no seed  and they  had developed  a taste  for human flesh.  Those who
wished  to  till the  ground  were  set upon  by  bands of  roving men  and
devoured. For a hundred years they have been feeding upon one another until
now  it is  no longer  a populace  province, but  a wasteland  inhabited by
roving   bands,   searching   for  one   another   that   they  may   eat."

I  shuddered  at her  recital.  It was  obvious  that we  must escape  this
accursed  place as  rapidly  as possible.  I asked  Tavia  if she  knew the
location of  U-Gor and she told me that it lay  southeast of Jahar, about a
thousands  haads  and  about  two  thousand  haads  southwest  of  Xanator.

I saw that it would be useless to attempt to reach Helium from here. Such a
journey on  foot, if it could be accomplished  at all, would require years.
The nearest  friendly city toward which  we could turn was  Gathol, which I
estimated lay  some seven thousand haads  almost due north. The possibility
of reaching  Gathol seemed remote in the extreme, but  it was our only hope
and so we  turned our faces toward the north and set  out upon our long and
seemingly  hopeless   journey  toward  the  city   of  my  mother's  birth.

The country about us was rolling, with here and there a range of low hills,
while far to the north I could see the outlines of higher hills against the
horizon. The land was  entirely denuded of all but noxious weeds, attesting
the grim  battle for  survival waged by  its unhappy people.  There were no
reptiles; no  insects; no birds – all had  been devoured during the century
of misery that had lain upon the land.

As we  plodded onward through this desolate  and depressing waste, we tried
to keep up one  another's spirit as best we could and a hundred times I had
reason to give thanks  that it was Tavia who was my companion and no other.

What could I have  done under like circumstances burdened with Sanoma Tora?
I doubt  that she could have walked a dozen  haads, while Tavia swung along
at my side with  the lithe grace of perfect health and strength. It takes a
good man to keep up with me on a march, but Tavia never lagged; nor did she
show signs of fatigue more quickly than I.

"We are well matched, Tavia," I said.

"I  had   thought  of  that  –   a  long  time  ago,"   she  said  quietly.

We continued on until almost dusk without seeing a sign of any living thing
and were congratulating ourselves  upon our good fortune when Tavia glanced
back, as one of us often did.

She  touched my  arm  and nodded  toward the  rear.  "They come!"  she said
simply.

I looked back and  saw three figures upon our trail. They were too far away
for me  to be able  to do more than  identify them as human  beings. It was
evident that they had seen us and they were closing the distance between us
at a steady trot.

"What shall  we do?"  asked Tavia. "Stand  and fight, or try  to elude them
until night falls?"

"We shall  do neither," I said.  "We shall elude them  now without exerting
ourselves in the least."

"How?" she asked.

"Through the inventive genius of Phor Tak, and the compound of invisibility
that I filched from him."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Tavia. "I had forgotten your cloak. With it we should
have  no  difficulty  in  eluding all  dangers  between  here and  Gathol."

I opened my pocket pouch and reached in to withdraw the cloak. It was gone!
As was the vial containing the remainder of the compound. I looked at Tavia
and she must have read the truth in my expression.

"You have lost it?" she asked.

"No, it has been stolen from me," I replied.

She came  again and laid her  hand upon my arm in  sympathy and I knew that
she was  thinking what I was  thinking, that it could  have been none other
than Sanoma  Tora who had stolen  it. I hung my head.  "And to think that I
jeopardized your safety, Tavia, to save such as she."

"Do not  judge her hastily," she  said. "We cannot know  how sorely she may
have been  tempted, or what threats were used to turn  her from the path of
honor. Perhaps she is not as strong as we."

"Let us  not speak of her," I said. "It is  a hideous, sensation, Tavia, to
feel love turned to hatred."

She pressed  my arm.  "Time heals all  hurts," she said, "and  some day you
will find a woman worthy of you, if such a one exists."

I looked down at  her. "If such a one exists," I mused, but she interrupted
my meditation with a question.

"Shall we fight or run, Hadron of Hastor?" she demanded.

"I should  prefer to fight and  die," I replied, "but  I must think of you,
Tavia."

"Then we shall remain and fight," she said; "but Hadron, you must not die."

There was a note  of reproach in her tone that did not  escape me and I was
ashamed of  myself for having seemed  to forget the great  debt that I owed
her for her friendship.

"I am  sorry," I  said. "Tavia, I  could not wish  to die  while you live."

"That is  better," she said. "How  shall we fight? Shall  I stand upon your
right or upon your left?"

"You shall  stand behind me, Tavia," I told her. "While  my hand can hold a
sword, you will need no other defense."

"A  long time  ago, after  we first met,"  she said,  "you told me  that we
should be comrades in  arms. That means that we fight together, shoulder to
shoulder, or back to  back. I hold you to your word, Tan Hadron of Hastor."

I smiled,  and, though I felt  that I could fight  better alone than with a
woman at my side,  I admired her courage. "Very well," I said; "fight at my
right, for thus you will be between two swords."

The three  upon our trail had approached us so closely  by this time that I
could discern what manner  of creatures they were and I saw before me naked
savages with  tangled, unkempt hair, filthy  bodies and degraded faces. The
wild light in their  eyes, their snarling lips exposing yellow fangs, their
stealthy, slinking  carriage gave  them more the appearance  of wild beasts
than men.

They  were armed  with  swords which  they carried  in their  hands, having
neither  harness nor  scabbard. They  halted at  a short distance  from us,
eyeing us hungrily, and doubtless they were hungry for their flabby bellies
suggested that they went often empty and were then gorged when meat fell to
their lot in sufficient  quantities. Tonight these three had hoped to gorge
themselves; I  could see it in  their eyes. They whispered  together in low
tones for  a few minutes and then they separated  to rush us from different
points simultaneously.

"We'll carry the battle to them, Tavia," I whispered. "When they have taken
their positions around us,  I shall give the word and then I shall rush the
one in front  of me and try to dispatch him before  the others can set upon
us.   Keep  close   beside   me  so   that  they   cannot  cut   you  off."

"Shoulder to shoulder until the end," she said.

Fifteen

                            THE BATTLE OF JAHAR

GLANCING ACROSS  MY SHOULDER I saw  that the two circling  to our rear were
already further away from us than he who stood facing us and realizing that
the unexpectedness of our act would greatly enhance the chances of success,
I gave the word.

"Now, Tavia," I whispered, and together we leaped forward at a run straight
for the naked savage facing us.

It was  evident that he had not expected this and  it was also evident that
he was a  slow witted beast, for as he saw us  coming his lower jaw dropped
and he  just stood there, waiting to receive us; whereas  if he had had any
intelligence he  would have fallen back to give  his fellows time to attack
us from the rear.

As our  swords crossed I heard a savage growl from  behind, such a growl as
might issue  from the throat of  a wild beast. From the  corner of my eye I
saw Tavia  glance back and then  before I could realize  what she intended,
she sprang  forward and ran her sword through the body  of the man in front
of me  as he lunged at me with his own  weapon, and now, wheeling together,
we faced the other  two who were running rapidly toward us and I can assure
you that it was  with a feeling of infinite relief that I realized that the
odds were no longer so greatly against us.

As  the two  engaged us,  I was  handicapped at  first by the  necessity of
constantly keeping an eye upon Tavia, but not for long.

In an  instant I realized that  a master hand was  wielding that blade. Its
point wove in and out past the clumsy guard of the savage and I knew, and I
guessed he must have  sensed, that his life lay in the hollow of the little
hand  that  gripped  the  hilt.  Then  I  turned  my attention  to  my  own
antagonist.

These were  not the best swordsmen that I have ever  met, but they were far
from  being  poor swordsmen.  Their  defense, however,  far excelled  their
offense and this, I think, was due to two things, natural cowardice and the
fact that  they usually hunted in packs,  which far outnumbered the quarry.
Thus a good defense only was required, since the death blow might always be
struck from behind by a companion of the one who engaged the quarry from in
front.

Never before  had I  seen a woman  fight and I  should have  thought that I
should have  been chagrined to have one fighting at  my side, but instead I
felt a strange thrill  that was partly pride and partly something else that
I could not analyze.

At first,  I think, the fellow facing Tavia did not  realize that she was a
woman, but  he must have soon as the scant  harness of Barsoom hides little
and certainly  did not hide  the rounded contours of  Tavia's girlish body.
Perhaps, therefore, it was  surprise that was his undoing, or possibly when
he  discovered her  sex  he became  overconfident,  but at  any rate  Tavia
slipped her point into  his heart just an instant before I finished my man.

I cannot say that  we were greatly elated over our victory. Each of us felt
compassion  for the  poor creatures  who had  been reduced to  their horrid
state by  the tyranny  of cruel Tul Axtar,  but it had been  their lives or
ours and we were glad it had not been ours.

As a matter of  precaution I took a quick look about us  as the last of our
antagonists fell  and I  was glad that  I had, for  I immediately discerned
three  creatures  crouching at  the  top of  a  low hill  not far  distant.

"We are not done  yet, Tavia," I said. "Look!" and pointed in the direction
of the three.

"Perhaps they  do not care to  share the fate of  their fellows," she said.
"They are not approaching."

"They can  have peace if  they want it as  far as I am  concerned," I said.
"Come,  let us  go  on. If  they follow  us,  then will  be time  enough to
consider them."

As we walked on toward the north we glanced back occasionally and presently
we saw  the three  rise and come down  the hill toward the  bodies of their
slain fellows, and as they did so we saw that they were women and that they
were unarmed.

When they realized that we were departing and had no intention of attacking
them,  they broke  into a  run and,  uttering loud, uncanny  shrieks, raced
madly toward the corpses.

"How  pathetic,"  said Tavia  sadly.  "Even these  poor degraded  creatures
possess human  emotions. They,  too, can feel  sorrow at the  loss of loved
ones."

"Yes," I said. "Poor things, I am sorry for them."

Fearing  that in  the frenzy of  their grief  they might attempt  to avenge
their fallen  mates, we  kept a close  eye upon them  or we  might not have
witnessed  the  horrid  sequel  of  the  fray.  I  wish that  we  had  not.

When the three women  reached the corpses they fell upon them, but not with
weeping   and  lamentation  –   they  fell   upon  them  to   devour  them.

Sickened, we  turned away  and walked rapidly  toward the north  until long
after darkness had descended.

We felt that there was little danger of attack at night since there were no
savage beasts in a country where there was nothing to support them and also
that it  was reasonable to assume  that the hunting men  would be abroad by
day rather  than by  night, since at night  they would be far  less able to
find quarry or follow it.

I suggested to Tavia that we rest for a short time and then push on for the
balance  of the night,  find a place  of concealment  early in the  day and
remain  there until  night  had fallen  again, as  I  was sure  that  if we
followed this plan we  would make better time and suffer less exhaustion by
traveling through  the cool  hours of darkness  and at the  same time would
greatly  minimize the danger  of discovery  and attack by  whatever hostile
people lay between us and Gathol.

Tavia agreed  with me  and so we rested  for a short time,  taking turns at
sleeping and watching.

Later we  pushed on and I  am sure that we  covered a great distance before
dawn, though the high  hills to the north of us still looked as far away as
they had upon the previous day.

We now set about  searching for some comfortable place of concealment where
we  might spend  the daylight  hours. Neither  of us  was suffering  to any
extent from either hunger  or thirst, as the ancients would have done under
like circumstances, for with  the gradual diminution of water and vegetable
matter upon  Mars during  countless ages all  her creatures have  by a slow
process of  evolution been  enabled to go  for long periods  without either
food or drink  and we have also learned so to control  our minds that we do
not think of food or drink until we are able to procure it, which doubtless
greatly  assists   us  in   controlling  the  cravings   of  our  appetite.

After considerable search we  found a deep and narrow ravine which seemed a
most favorable  place in  which to hide,  but, scarcely had  we entered it,
when I chanced to  see two eyes looking down upon us from the summit of one
of the ridges that flanked it. As I looked, the head in which the eyes were
set was withdrawn below the summit.

"That puts an  end to this place," I said to Tavia,  telling her what I had
seen. "We must move on and look for a new sanctuary."

As we emerged from  the ravine at its upper end I glanced back, and again I
saw the creature looking at us and once again he tried to hide himself from
us. As we moved  on I kept glancing back and occasionally I would see him –
one  of the  hunting men  of U-Gor. He  was stalking  us as the  wild beast
stalks its prey. The very thought of it filled me with disgust. Had he been
a fighting man stalking us merely to kill, I should not have felt as I did,
but the  thought that he was  stealthily trailing us because  he desired to
devour us was repellent – it was horrifying.

Hour  after hour  the thing  kept upon  our trail;  doubtless he  feared to
attack because  we outnumbered him,  or perhaps he thought  we might become
separated, or  lie down  to sleep or  do one of  the number  of things that
travelers might do that would give him the opportunity he sought, but after
awhile he  must have given up hope. He no  longer sought to conceal himself
from  us and once,  as he mounted  a low  hill, he stood  there silhouetted
against  the sky and  throwing his head  back, he  gave voice to  a shrill,
uncanny cry that made  the short hairs upon my neck stand erect. It was the
hunting   cry  of   the  wild   beast  calling   the  pack  to   the  kill.

I could  feel Tavia shudder and  press more closely to me  and I put my arm
about her in a  gesture of protection, and thus we walked on in silence for
a long time.

Twice  again the  creature  voiced his  uncanny cry  until  at last  it was
answered ahead of us and to the right.

Again we  were forced to fight, but this time only  two, and when we pushed
on again it  was with a feeling of depression that I  could not shake off –
depression for the utter hopelessness of our situation.

At the  summit of a higher hill than we had  before crossed, I halted. Some
tall weeds grew there. "Let us lie down here, Tavia," I said. "From here we
can watch; let us  be the watchers for a while. Sleep, and when night comes
we shall move on."

She looked  tired and that worried  me, but I think  she was suffering more
from the nervous strain of the eternal stalking than from physical fatigue.
I know that  it affected me and how much more might  it affect a young girl
than a  trained fighting man. She lay very close to  me, as though she felt
safer thus and was soon asleep, while I watched.

From this  high vantage  point I could  see a considerable  area of country
about  us and it  was not long  before I  detected figures of  men prowling
about like  hunting banths and often it was  apparent that one was stalking
another. There were at least a half dozen such visible to me at one time. I
saw one  overtake his prey and  leap upon it from  behind. They were at too
great a  distance from me for  me to discern accurately  the details of the
encounter, but I judged  that the stalker ran his sword through the back of
his  quarry and  then,  like a  hunting banth,  he fell  upon his  kill and
devoured it.  I do  not know that he  finished it, but he  was still eating
when darkness fell.

Tavia had had a  long sleep and when she awoke she reproached me for having
permitted  her   to  sleep  so  long  and   insisted  that  I  must  sleep.

From necessity  I have learned to do with  little sleep when conditions are
such that  I cannot spare the  time, though I always  make up for it later,
and I  have also  learned to limit  my sleep to  any length of  time that I
choose, so that now  I awoke promptly when my allotted time had elapsed and
again we set out toward far Gathol.

Again this  night, as upon  the preceding one, we  moved unmolested through
the  horrid land of  U-Gor and when  morning dawned  we saw the  high hills
rising close before us.

"Perhaps  these hills  mark  the northern  limits of  U-Gor,"  I suggested.

"I think they do," replied Tavia.

"They are only a short distance away now," I said; "let us keep on until we
have passed  them. I cannot leave  this accursed land behind  me too soon."

"Nor  I," said  Tavia.  "I sicken  at the  thought  of what  I  have seen."

We had  crossed a narrow valley  and were entering the  hills when we heard
the  hateful hunting  cry behind  us. Turning,  I saw  a single  man moving
across  the valley  toward us.  He knew that  I had  seen him, but  he kept
steadily on,  occasionally stopping to voice his  weird scream. He heard an
answer  come from  the  east and  then another  and another  from different
directions. We hastened onward,  climbing the low foothills that led upward
toward the  summit far above, and as we looked back  we saw the hunting men
converging upon us from all sides. We had never seen so many of them at one
time before.

"Perhaps if  we get well up into the mountains we  can elude them," I said.

Tavia shook  her head.  "At least we  have made a good  fight, Hadron," she
said.

I saw that she  was discouraged; nor could I wonder; yet a moment later she
looked up at me and smiled brightly. "We still live, Hadron of Hastor!" she
exclaimed.

"We still live and we have our swords," I reminded her.

As  we climbed  they pressed upward  behind us  and presently I  saw others
coming through  the hills from the right and from  the left. We were turned
from  the low  saddle over  which I had  hoped to  cross the summit  of the
range,  for hunting  men had  entered it  from above  and were  coming down
toward us. Directly ahead  of us now loomed a high peak, the highest in the
range as far as  I could see, and only there, up its steep side, were there
no hunting men to bar our way.

As we climbed, the  sides of the mountain grew steeper until the ascent was
not only most arduous, but sometimes difficult and dangerous; yet there was
no alternative  and we  pressed onward toward  the summit, while  behind us
came the  hunting men  of U-Gor. They were  not rushing us and  from that I
felt confident that they  knew that they had us cornered. I was looking for
a place  in which we might  make a stand, but  I found none and  at last we
reached  the summit,  a  circular, level  space perhaps  a hundred  feet in
diameter.

As our  pursuers were yet some  little distance below us,  I walked quickly
around the  outside of the table-like top of  the peak. The entire northern
face dropped sheer from the summit for a couple of hundred feet, definitely
blocking our retreat. At  every other point the hunting men were ascending.
Our  situation appeared  hopeless; it  was hopeless,  and yet I  refused to
admit defeat.

The summit of the mountain was strewn with loose rock. I hurled a rock down
at the nearest cannibal.  It struck him upon the head and sent him hurtling
down the  mountain side,  carrying a couple  of his fellows  with him. Then
Tavia followed my example and together we bombarded them, but more often we
scored misses  than hits  and there were so  many of them and  they were so
fierce and  so hungry that we did not even  stem their advance. So numerous
were  they now  that they reminded  me of  insects, crawling up  there from
below – huge, grotesque insects that would soon fall upon us and devour us.

As  they came  nearer they gave  voice to a  new cry  that I had  not heard
before. It  was a cry that differed from the  hunting call, but was equally
as terrible.

"Their war-cry," said Tavia.

On and on with  relentless persistency the throng swarmed upward toward us.
We drew  our swords; it was our last stand. Tavia  pressed closer to me and
for the first time I thought I felt her tremble.

"Do  not let  them  take me,"  she said.  "It  is not  death that  I fear."

I knew what she meant and I took her in my arms. "I cannot do it, Tavia," I
said. "I cannot."

"You must,"  she replied  in a firm  voice. "If you  care for me  even as a
friend, you cannot let these beasts take me alive."

I know  that I choked then  so that I could not reply,  but I knew that she
was right and I drew my dagger.

"Good-bye, Hadron – my Hadron!"

Her breast  was bared  to receive my  dagger, her face  was upturned toward
mine. It was still  a brave face with no fear upon it, and oh how beautiful
it was.

Impulsively, guided  by a power I could not control,  I bent and crushed my
lips to  hers. With half closed  eyes she pressed her  own lips upward more
tightly against mine.

"Oh,  Issus!" she  breathed as she  took them  away, and then,  "They come!
Strike now, Hadron, and strike deep!"

The  creatures were almost  at the summit.  I swung  my hand upward  that I
might bury the slim dagger deeply in that perfect breast. To my surprise my
knuckles  struck  something hard  above  me.  I glanced  upward. There  was
nothing  there; yet  something  impelled me  to feel  again, to  solve that
uncanny mystery even in that instant of high tragedy.

Again  I felt  above me. By  Issus, there  was something there!  My fingers
passed over a smooth surface – a familiar surface.

It  could  not  be,   and  yet  I  knew  that  it  must  be  –  the  Jhama.

I asked no questions of myself nor of fate at that instant. The hunting men
of U-Gor were almost upon us as my groping fingers found one of the mooring
rings  in the  bow  of the  Jhama. Quickly  I  swung Tavia  above  my head.

"It is the Jhama. Climb to her deck," I cried.

The dear  girl, as quick to seize upon  the fortuitous opportunities as any
trained fighting  man, did not pause to  question, but swung herself upward
to the  deck with  the agility of an  athlete, and as I  seized the mooring
ring and  drew myself upward she lay flat upon  her belly and reaching down
assisted  me; nor  was the strength  in that  slender frame unequal  to the
task.

The leaders  of the horde had reached the  summit. They paused in momentary
confusion when  they saw us climb into thin  air and stand there apparently
just above  their heads, but hunger  urged them on and  they leaped for us,
clambering upon  one another's back and  shoulders to seize us  and drag us
down.

Two almost  gained the deck as  I fought them all  back single-handed while
Tavia had raised a hatch and leaped to the controls.

Another foul-faced  thing reached the deck upon  the opposite side and only
chance revealed him to  me before he had run his sword through my back. The
Jhama was  already rising as I turned to engage  him. There was little room
there in which to  fight, but I had the advantage in that I knew the extent
of the  deck beneath  my feet, while he  could see nothing but  thin air. I
think it frightened him, too, and when I rushed him he stepped backward out
into  space and,  with  a scream  of  terror, hurtled  downward toward  the
ground.

We  were saved,  but how  in the name  of all  our ancestors had  the Jhama
chanced to be at this spot.

Perhaps Tul Axtar was  aboard! The thought filled me with alarm for Tavia's
safety  and with  my sword  ready I  leaped through  the hatchway  into the
cabin, but only Tavia was there.

We tried  to arrive at some  explanation of the miracle  that had saved us,
but  no  amount of  conjecture  brought forth  any  thing that  was at  all
satisfactory.

"She  was there  when we needed  her most,"  said Tavia; "that  fact should
satisfy us."

"I guess  it will have  to for the time  being at least," I  said, "and now
once more we can turn a ship's nose toward Helium."

We had  passed but a short  distance beyond the mountains  when I sighted a
ship in the distance and shortly thereafter another and another until I was
aware that we were  approaching a great fleet moving toward the east. As we
came closer I descried the hulls painted with the ghastly blue of Jahar and
I knew that this was Tul Axtar's formidable armada.

And then we saw  ships approaching from the east and I knew that it was the
fleet of  Helium. It could be  no other; yet I must  make certain, and so I
sped in  the direction of the nearest ship of this  other fleet until I saw
the banners  and pennons  of Helium floating  from her upper  works and the
battle insignia  of the Warlord painted upon her  prow. Behind her came the
other ships – a noble fleet moving to inevitable doom.

A Jaharian cruiser was  moving toward the first great battleship as I raced
to   intercept   them   and   bring  one   of   my   rifles  into   action.

I was forced to  come close to my target as was the Jaharian cruiser, since
the effective  range of the disintegrating  ray rifle is extremely limited.

Everything aboard the battleship of Helium was ready for action, but I knew
why they  had not fired a  gun. It has ever been  the boast of John Carter,
Warlord of Barsoom, that  he would not start a war. The enemy must fire the
first shot. If I could have reached them in time he would have realized the
fatal consequences of this magnanimous and chivalrous code and the ships of
Helium, with  their long range guns,  might have annihilated Jahar's entire
fleet before it could have brought its deadly rifles within range, but fate
had ordained otherwise and  now the best that I could hope was that I might
reach the Jaharian ship before it was too late.

Tavia was at the controls. We were racing toward the blue cruiser of Jahar.
I was standing at  the forward rifle. In another moment we should be within
range and then I saw the great battleship of Helium crumble in mid-air. Its
wooden  parts dropped  slowly  toward the  ground and  a  thousand warriors
plunged to a cruel death upon the barren land beneath.

Almost immediately  the other ships of Helium were  brought to a stop. They
had witnessed the catastrophe  that had engulfed the first ship of the line
and the commander of the fleet had realized that they were menaced by a new
force of which they had no knowledge.

The ships  of Tul Axtar, encouraged by this  first success, were now moving
swiftly to the attack.  The cruiser that had destroyed the great battleship
was in the lead, but now I was within range of it.

Realizing that the blue  protective paint of Jahar would safeguard the ship
itself against  the disintegrating  ray, I had  rammed home a  cartridge of
another type in the chamber and swinging the muzzle of the rifle so that it
would  rake  the  entire   length  of  the  ship,  I  pressed  the  button.

Instantly the  men upon deck dissolved  into thin air –  only their harness
and their metal and their weapons were left.

Directing Tavia  to run the Jhama  alongside, I raised the  upper hatch and
leaped  to the  deck of  the cruiser and  a moment  later I had  raised the
signal of surrender above her. One can imagine the consternation aboard the
nearer ships of Jahar as they saw that signal flying from her forward mast,
for  there was  none  sufficiently close  to have  witnessed  what actually
transpired aboard her.

Returning to the cabin of the Jhama I lowered the hatch and went at once to
the periscope. Far in  the rear of the first line of Jaharian ships I could
just discern the royal insignia upon a great battleship, which told me that
Tul Axtar  was there, but in a safe position. I  should have liked to reach
his ship next, but  the fleet was moving forward toward the ships of Helium
and I dared not spare the time.

By now the ships  of Helium had opened fire and shells were exploding about
the leading ships of  the Jaharian fleet – shells so nicely timed that they
can be set to  explode at any point up to the extreme range of the gun that
discharges them.  It takes nice gunnery to  synchronize the timing with the
target.

As ship after ship  of the Jaharian fleet was hit, the others brought their
big guns into action.  Temporarily, at least, the disintegrating ray rifles
had failed,  but that they would succeed I knew if  a single ship could get
through the  Heliumetic line,  where among the great  battleships she could
destroy a dozen in the space of a few minutes.

The gunnery  of the Jaharians was poor;  their shells usually exploded high
in air  before they  reached their target,  but as the  battle continued it
improved;  yet I  knew that Jahar  never could  hope to defeat  Helium with
Helium's own weapons.

A great  battleship of Tul Axtar's fleet was  hit three times in succession
almost alongside of me. I saw her drop by the stern and I knew that she was
done for,  and then I saw  her commander rush to the  bow and take the last
long dive and I knew that there were brave men in Tul Axtar's fleet as well
as in  the fleet of Helium,  but Tul Axtar was not one  of them, for in the
distance I could see his flagship racing toward Jahar.

Despite  the cowardice  of the  jeddak, the  great fleet  pushed on  to the
attack.  If they  had the  courage they  could still  win, for  their ships
outnumbered the  ships of  Helium ten to  one and as  far as  the eye could
reach I could see them speeding from the north, from the south and from the
west toward the scene of battle.

Closer and  closer the  ships of Helium  were pressing toward  the ships of
Jahar. In his ignorance  the Warlord was playing directly into the hands of
the  enemy.  With  their   superior  marksmanship  and  twenty  battleships
protected by  the blue  paint of Jahar,  Helium could wipe  out Tul Axtar's
great  armada; of  that  I was  confident, and  with  that thought  came an
inspiration. It  might be done and  only Tan Hadron of  Hastor could do it.

Shells were  falling all about us.  The force of the  explosions rocked the
Jhama until  she tossed  and pitched like  an ancient ship  upon an ancient
sea. Again  and again were we  perilously close to the  line of fire of the
Jaharian  disintegrating ray  rifles. I  felt that  I might no  longer risk
Tavia  thus,  yet  I  must  carry  out  the  plan  that  I  had  conceived.

It is strange how  men change and for what seemingly trivial reasons. I had
thought all  my life that I would make any sacrifice  for Helium, but now I
knew that I would  not sacrifice a single hair of that tousled head for all
Barsoom. This, I soliloquized, is friendship.

Taking the  controls I turned the bow of the Jhama  toward one of the ships
of Helium, that was standing temporarily out of the line of fire, and as we
approached her side I  turned the controls back over to Tavia, and, raising
the  forward hatch,  sprang to the  deck of  the Jhama, raising  both hands
above my  head in signal of surrender in the event  that they might take me
for a Jaharian.

What must  they have thought  when they saw me  apparently floating upright
upon thin air? That  they were astonished was evident by the expressions on
the  faces of  those nearest  to me as  the Jhama  touched the side  of the
battleship.

They kept me covered as I came aboard, leaving Tavia to maneuver the Jhama.

Before I  could announce myself I  was recognized by a  young officer of my
own umak. With a cry of surprise he leaped forward and threw his arms about
me. "Hadron of Hastor!"  he cried. "Have I witnessed your resurrection from
death; but  no, you are  too real, too much  alive to be any  wraith of the
other world."

"I am alive now," I cried, "but none of us will be unless I can get word to
your commander. Where is he?"

"Here," said  a voice behind  me and I turned  to see an old  odwar who had
been a great friend of my father's. He recognized me immediately, but there
was no time even for greetings.

"Warn the  fleet that the ships of Jahar  are armed with disintegrating ray
rifles that can dissolve every ship as you saw the first one dissolve. They
are only effective at short range.

Keep at  least a haad distance  from them and you  are relatively safe. And
now if  you will give me  three men and direct the  fire of your fleet away
from the  Jaharian ships on the  south of their line,  I will agree to have
twenty ships for  you in an hour – ships protected by  the blue of Jahar in
which  you  may  face  their  disintegrating  ray  rifles  with  impunity."

The odwar knew me well and upon his own responsibility he agreed to do what
I asked.

Three padwars  of my own class guaranteed to  accompany me. I fetched Tavia
aboard  the battleship  and turned her  over to  the protection of  the old
odwar,  though   she  objected   strenuously  to  being   parted  from  me.

"We have  gone through so much together, Hadron  of Hastor," she said, "let
us go on to the end together."

She had  come quite close to  me and spoken in a  low voice that none might
overhear.  Her   eyes,  filled  with  pleading,   were  upturned  to  mine.

"I cannot risk you further, Tavia," I said.

"There is so much danger then, you think?" she asked.

"We shall be in  danger, of course," I said; "this is war and one can never
tell. Do not worry though. I shall come back safely."

"Then  it is  that you fear  that I shall  be in  the way," she  said, "and
another can do the work better than I."

"Of  course  not,"  I  replied.  "I  am  thinking  only  of  your  safety."

"If you are lost,  I shall not live. I swear it," she  said, "so if you can
trust me  to do  the work of  a man, let me  go with you instead  of one of
those."

I hesitated.  "Oh, Hadron  of Hastor, please  do not leave  me here without
you," she said.

I could  not resist her. "Very well, then," I said,  "come with me. I would
rather have  you than any other," and so it was  that Tavia replaced one of
the padwars on the Jhama, much to the officer's chagrin.

Before  entering the  Jhama I  turned again  to the  old odwar. "If  we are
successful," I said, "a  number of Tul Axtar's battleships will move slowly
toward the Helium line  beneath signals of surrender. Their crews will have
been  destroyed.   Have  boarding   parties  ready  to   take  them  over."

Naturally every  one aboard the battleship  was intensely interested in the
Jhama though all that  they could see of her was the open hatch and the eye
of the  periscope. Officers  and men lined  the rail as we  went aboard our
invisible craft and as  I closed the hatch, a loud cheer rang out above me.

My first  act thoroughly evidenced my  need of Tavia, for  I put her at the
after turret  in charge of the  rifle there, while one  of the padwars took
the controls  and turned the prow  of the Jhama toward  the Jaharian fleet.

I was  standing in a position  where I could watch  the changing scene upon
the ground  glass beneath the  periscope and when a  great battleship swung
slowly into the miniature picture before me, I directed the padwar to lay a
straight course for her, but a moment later I saw another battleship moving
abreast of  her, This was better and we changed  our course to pass between
the two.

They were  moving gallantly  toward the fleet  of Helium, firing  their big
guns now  and reserving  their disintegrating ray rifles  for closer range.
What  a  magnificent sight  they  were,  and yet  how  helpless. The  tiny,
invisible Jhama,  with her  little rifles, constituted a  greater menace to
them than did the entire fleet of Helium. On they drove, unconscious of the
inevitable fate bearing down upon them.

"Sweep the  starboard ship from stem to stern," I  called to Tavia. "I will
take  this fellow on  our port," and  then to  the padwar at  the controls,
"Half speed!"

Slowly we passed their bows. I touched the button upon my rifle and through
the tiny  sighting aperture  I saw the  crew dissolve in the  path of those
awful rays, as  the two ships passed. We were very close  – so close that I
could see the expressions  of consternation and horror on the faces of some
of the warriors as  they saw their fellows disappear before their eyes, and
then their  turn would come and they would be  snuffed out in the twinkling
of  an  eye,  their  weapons  and  their  metal  clattering  to  the  deck.

As we  dropped astern of them,  our work completed, I  had the padwar bring
the Jhama  about and alongside one  of the ships, which  I quickly boarded,
running up  the signal of surrender.  With the death of  the officer at her
controls she  had fallen  off with the  wind, but I quickly  brought her up
again and, setting her at half speed, her bow toward the ships of Helium, I
locked the controls and left her.

Returning  to the  Jhama we  crossed quickly  to the  other ship and  a few
moments later  it, too, was moving slowly toward  the fleet of the Warlord,
the signal of surrender fluttering above it.

So quickly  had the  blow been struck  that even the nearer  ships of Jahar
were  some time  in realizing  that anything  was amiss. Perhaps  they were
unable  to  believe  their  own eyes  when  they  saw  two  of their  great
battleships  surrender before  having  been struck  by a  single  shot, but
presently  the  commander  of  a light  cruiser  seemed  to  awaken to  the
seriousness  of  the  situation,  even  though  he  could  not  fully  have
understood it. We were  already moving toward another battleship when I saw
the cruiser  speeding directly toward one of our prizes  and I knew that it
would never  reach the  fleet of Helium if  he boarded it, a  thing which I
must prevent at all costs. His course would bring him across our bow and as
he passed I raked him with the forward rifle.

I  saw that it  would be impossible  for the  Jhama to overtake  this swift
cruiser, which  was moving at  full speed and so  we had to let  her go her
way. At first  I was afraid she would ram the nearer  prize and had she hit
her squarely  at the  rate that she  was traveling, the  cruiser would have
plowed half way through the hull of the battleship. Fortunately, she missed
the great ship  by a hair and went speeding on into  the midst of the fleet
of Helium.

Instantly she  was the target for  a hundred guns, a  barrage of shells was
bursting  about   her  and  then   there  must  have  been   a  dozen  bits
simultaneously,  for the  cruiser  simply disappeared  – a  mass  of flying
debris.

As I turned back  to our work I saw the havoc being wrought by the big guns
of Helium  upon the enemy ships  to the north of me.  In the instant that I
glanced I  saw three great battleships take the  final dive, while at least
four others were drifting helplessly with the wind, but other ships of that
mighty armada  were swinging into action.  As far as I  could see they were
coming from  the north, from the  south and from the  west. There seemed no
end to  them and  now, at last, I  realized that only a  miracle could give
victory to Helium.

In  accordance   with  my  suggestion  our   own  fleet  was  holding  off,
concentrating the  fire of  its big guns  upon the nearer ships  of Jahar –
constantly   seeking   to  keep   those   deadly  rifles   out  of   range.

Again  we fell  to  work –  to the  grim work  that the  god of  battle had
allotted  to us.  One by  one, twenty  great battleships  surrendered their
deserted  decks  to us  and  as  we worked  I  counted fully  as many  more
destroyed by the guns of the Warlord.

In the  prosecution of our work  we had been compelled  to destroy at least
half a dozen small  craft, such as scout fliers and light cruisers, and now
these  were racing erratically  among the  remaining ships of  the Jaharian
fleet,  carrying consternation and  doubtless terror  to the hearts  of Tul
Axtar's warriors,  for all the  nearer ships must have  realized long since
that  some strange, new  force had been  loosed upon  them by the  ships of
Helium.

By this  time we had worked  so far behind the  Jaharian first line that we
could no  longer see the  ships of Helium, though  bursting shells attested
the fact that they were still there.

From past  experience I realized that it would  be necessary to protect the
captured Jaharian ships from  being re-taken and so I turned back, taking a
position where  I could watch as  many of them as  possible and it was well
that I did so, for we found it necessary to destroy the crews of three more
ships before we reached the battle line of Helium.

Here they had already  manned a dozen of the captured battleships of Jahar,
and, with  the banners  and pennons of  Helium above them,  they had turned
about   and  were   moving   into  action   against  their   sister  ships.

It was  then that  the spirit of Jahar  was broken. This, I  think, was too
much for  them as doubtless the majority of  them believed that these ships
had gone  over to the enemy voluntarily with  all their officers and crews,
for  few, if  any, could  have known  that the  latter had  been destroyed.

Their Jeddak  had long since  deserted them. Twenty of  their largest ships
had  gone over  to the  enemy and now  protected by  the blue of  Jahar and
manned by the best gunners of Barsoom, were plowing through them, spreading
death and destruction upon every hand.

A dozen  of Tul Axtar's  ships surrendered voluntarily and  then the others
turned and  scattered; very few of  them headed toward Jahar  and I knew by
that   that   they   believed  that   the   city   must  inevitably   fall.

The  Warlord  made  no  effort to  pursue  the  fleeing  craft; instead  he
stationed the  ships that we had captured from  the enemy, more than thirty
all told  now, entirely around the  fleet of Helium to  protect it from the
disintegrating ray  rifles of the enemy  in the event of  a renewed attack,
and then slowly we moved on Jahar.

Sixteen

                                  DESPAIR

IMMEDIATELY after the close of the battle the Warlord sent for me and a few
moments later Tavia and I stepped aboard the flagship.

The Warlord  himself came forward to meet us. "I  knew," he said, "that the
son of Had Urtur  would give a good account of himself. Helium can scarcely
pay the  debt of  gratitude that you  have placed upon her  today. You have
been to  Jahar; your  work today convinces  me of that. May  we with safety
approach and take the city?"

"No," I  replied, and  then briefly I  explained the mighty  force that Tul
Axtar had  gathered and the armament  with which he expected  to subdue the
world. "But there is a way," I said.

"And what is that?" he asked.

"Send one of the captured Jaharian ships with a flag of truce and I believe
that Tul  Axtar will surrender. He is a coward. He  fled in terror when the
battle was still young."

"Will he honor a flag of truce?"

"If it is carried  aboard one of his own ships, protected by the blue paint
of Jahar,  I believe that he  will," I said; "but at  the same time I shall
accompany the ship in the invisible Jhama.

"I know  how I may gain  entrance to the palace.  I have abducted Tul Axtar
once and  perchance I may be  able to do it again. If  you have him in your
hands, you  can dictate terms to the nobles, all  of whom fear the terrific
power  of the  hungry  multitude that  is held  in  check now  only  by the
instinctive terror they feel for their Jeddak."

As we waited for  the former Jaharian cruiser that was to carry the flag of
truce  to  come  alongside,  John  Carter  told  me what  had  delayed  the
expedition against Jahar for so many months.

The majordomo of Tor Hatan's palace, to whom I had entrusted the message to
John Carter and which would have led immediately to the descent upon Jahar,
had  been assassinated  while  on his  way to  the  palace of  the Warlord.
Suspicion, therefore,  did not fall upon Tul Axtar  and the ships of Helium
scoured  Barsoom   for  many  months  in   vain  search  for  Sanoma  Tora.

It  was only by  accident that Kal  Tavan the  slave, who had  overheard my
conversation with  the majordomo, learned that the  ships of Helium had not
been  dispatched to  Jahar, for a  slave ordinarily  is not taken  into the
confidences of his master and the arrogant Tor Hatan was, of all men, least
likely to  do so; but Kal Tavan did hear eventually  and he went himself to
the Warlord and told his story.

"For his services," said  John Carter, I gave him his freedom and as it was
apparent from  his demeanor  that he had  been born to the  nobility in his
native country,  though he did not tell me this,  I gave him service aboard
the fleet.  He has  turned out to be  an excellent man and  recently I have
made him  a dwar. Having been  born in Tjanath and  served in Kobol, he was
more familiar  with this part of  Barsoom than any other  man in Helium. I,
therefore, assigned  him to duty  with the navigating officer  of the fleet
and he is now aboard the flagship."

"I  had  occasion  to  notice  the  man  immediately  after  Sanoma  Tora's
abduction," I said, "and I was much impressed by him. I am glad that he has
found his freedom and the favor of the Warlord."

The  cruiser that  was to  bear the  flag of  truce was now  alongside. The
officer  in  command  reported  to  the  Warlord  and as  he  received  his
instructions, Tavia and I returned to the Jhama. We had decided to carry on
our part of the  plan alone, for if it became necessary to abduct Tul Axtar
again I had hoped,  also, that I might find Phao and Sanoma Tora, and if so
the  small cabin  of the  Jhama would  be sufficiently crowded  without the
addition of  the two padwars. They were reluctant to  leave her for I think
they had  had the most glorious experience of  their lives during the short
time  that they  had  been aboard  her, but  I  gained permission  from the
Warlord for them to accompany the cruiser to Jahar.

Once again  Tavia and I were  alone. "Perhaps this will  be our last cruise
aboard the Jhama," I said.

"I think I shall be glad to rest," she replied.

"You are tired?" I asked.

"More tired  than I realized until  I felt the safety  and security of that
great  fleet of  Helium about  me. I think  that I  am just tired  of being
always in danger."

"I should  not have brought you now," I said. "There  is yet time to return
you to the flagship."

She   smiled.   "You   know   better   than  that,   Hadron,"   she   said.

I did know better. I knew that she would not leave me. We were silent for a
while as the Jhama  slid through the air slightly astern of the cruiser. As
I looked at Tavia's  face, it seemed to reflect a great weariness and there
were little  lines of sadness there  that I had not  seen before. Presently
she  spoke   again  in  a  dull   tone  that  was  most   unlike  her  own.

"I think  that Sanoma Tora will  be glad to come  away with you this time,"
she said.

"I do  not know," I said. "It makes no difference  to me whether she wishes
to come or not. It is my duty to fetch her."

She nodded. "Perhaps it is best," she said; "her father is a noble and very
rich."

I did not understand what that had to do with it and not being particularly
interested further  in either Sanoma Tora  or her father, I  did not pursue
the  conversation. I  knew that  it was  my duty  to return Sanoma  Tora to
Helium  if possible,  and  that was  the only  interest that  I had  in the
affair.

We were  well within sight of Jahar before  we encountered any warships and
then  a  cruiser came  to  meet  ours which  bore  the flag  of truce.  The
commanders of  the two  boats exchanged a  few words and  then the Jaharian
craft  turned and  led the  way toward  the palace  of Tul Axtar.  It moved
slowly and  I forged on ahead, my plans already  made, and the Jhama, being
clothed  with invisibility, needed  no escort.  I steered directly  to that
wing of the palace  which contained the women's quarters and slowly circled
it, my periscope on a line with the windows.

We had rounded  the end of the wing, in which the  great hall lay where Tul
Axtar  held court  with  his women,  when the  periscope came  opposite the
windows of a gorgeous apartment. I brought the ship to a stop before it, as
I had  before some of the  others which I wished  to examine, and while the
slowly moving  periscope brought different  parts of the large  room to the
ground glass plate before me I saw the figures of two women and instantly I
recognized  them. One  was Sanoma  Tora and  the other  Phao, and  upon the
figure of the former  hung the gorgeous trappings of a Jeddara. The woman I
had loved  had achieved her goal,  but it caused me  no pang of jealousy. I
searched  the balance  of the  apartment and  finding no other  occupant, I
brought the  deck of the Jhama  close below the sill  of the window. Then I
raised a hatch and leaped into the room.

At sight  of me  Sanoma Tora arose from  the divan upon which  she had been
sitting and  shrank back in terror. I thought that  she was about to scream
for help, but I  warned her to silence, and at the same instant Phao sprang
forward and,  seizing Sanoma Tora's arm,  clapped a palm over  her mouth. A
moment later I had gained her side.

"The fleet of Jahar  has gone down to defeat before the ships of Helium," I
told Sanoma  Tora, "and I have come to take you  back to your own country."

She was  trembling so  that she could  not reply. I  had never  seen such a
picture of  abject terror, induced  no doubt by her  own guilty conscience.

"I am  glad you have come,  Hadron of Hastor," said  Phao, "for I know that
you will take me, too."

"Of  course," I  said. "The Jhama  lies just  outside that window  Come! We
shall soon be safe aboard the flagship of the Warlord."

While I had been  talking I had become aware of a strange noise that seemed
to  come from  a distance  and which  rose and  fell in  volume and  now it
appeared to be growing nearer and nearer. I could not explain it; perhaps I
did not  attempt to, for at  best I could be  only mildly interested. I had
found two  of those  whom I sought. I  would get them aboard  the Jhama and
then I would try to locate Tul Axtar.

At that instant the  door burst open and a man rushed into the room. It was
Tul Axtar.  He was very pale  and he was breathing hard.  At sight of me he
halted and shrank back and I thought that he was going to turn and run, but
he only  looked fearfully back through the open door  and then he turned to
me, trembling.

"They are  coming!" he  cried in a voice  of terror. "They will  tear me to
pieces."

"Who is coming?" I demanded.

"The people," he said.  "They have forced the gates and they are coming, Do
you not hear them?"

So that  was the noise that had attracted my  attention – the hungry hordes
of Jahar searching out the author of their misery.

"The Jhama is outside that window," I said. "If you will come aboard her as
a  prisoner  of  war,   I  will  take  you  to  the  Warlord  of  Barsoom."

"He will kill me, too," wailed Tul Axtar.

"He should," I assured him.

He stood  looking at me for  a moment and I  could see in his  eyes and the
expression of  his face the  reflection of a dawning  idea. His countenance
lightened. He looked almost hopeful. "I will come," he said; "but first let
me  get   one  thing   to  take  with   me.  It  is   in  yonder  cabinet."

"Hasten," I said.

He went  quickly to the cabinet, which was a  tall affair reaching from the
floor almost  to the ceiling, and  when he opened the  door it hid him from
our view.

As I  waited I  could hear the crash  of weapons upon levels  below and the
screams and  shrieks and curses of  men and I judged  that the palace guard
was  holding the  mob, temporarily  at least.  Finally I  became impatient.
"Hasten, Tul Axtar," I  called, but there was no reply. Again I called him,
with the  same result, and then I crossed the room  to the cabinet, but Tul
Axtar was not behind the door.

The cabinet  contained many drawers  of different sizes, but  there was not
one  large enough to  conceal a man,  nor any  through which he  could have
passed to another apartment. Hastily I searched the room, but Tul Axtar was
nowhere to  be found and then  I chanced to glance  at Sanoma Tora. She was
evidently trying to attract my attention, but she was so terrified that she
could not speak. With trembling fingers she was pointing toward the window.
I looked in that direction, but I could see nothing.

"What is  it? What  are you trying  to say, Sanoma  Tora?" I  demanded as I
rushed to her side.

"Gone!" she managed to say. "Gone!"

"Who is gone?" I demanded.

"Tul Axtar."

"Where? What do you mean?" I insisted.

"The hatch of the Jhama – I saw it open and close."

"But it cannot be possible. We have been standing here looking–" and then a
thought struck me that  left me almost dazed. I turned to Sanoma Tora. "The
cloak of invisibility?" I whispered.

She nodded.

Almost in  a single bound I crossed the room to  the window and was feeling
for the deck  of the Jhama. It was not there. The  ship had gone. Tul Axtar
had taken it and Tavia was with him.

I  turned back  and crossed the  room to  Sanoma Tora. "Accursed  woman!" I
cried. "Your  selfishness, your vanity, your  treachery has jeopardized the
safety of one whose footprints you are not fit to touch." I wanted to close
my fingers  upon that perfect throat,  I yearned to see  the agony of death
upon that  beautiful face;  but only turned  away, my hands  dropping at my
sides, for  I am a man  – a noble of  Helium – and the  women of Helium are
sacred, even such as Sanoma Tora.

From below came the  sounds of renewed fighting. If the mob broke through I
knew that we should  all be lost, There was but one hope for even temporary
safety  and  that  was  the  slender  tower  above  the  women's  quarters.

"Follow  me," I said  curtly. As we  entered the  main corridor I  caught a
glimpse of  the interior of the great hall where  Tul Axtar had held court.
It was  filled with  terrified women. Well  they knew what the  fate of the
women of a Jeddak would be at the hands of an infuriated mob. My heart went
out to  them, but I  could not save them.  Lucky, indeed, should I  be if I
were able to save these two.

Crossing the corridor we  ascended the spiral ramp to the storeroom, where,
after entering, I took the precaution to bolt the door, then I ascended the
ladder  toward the  trap door  at the  summit of  the tower, the  two women
following me.  As I raised the trap and looked about  me I could have cried
aloud  with joy,  for circling  low above  the roof  of the palace  was the
cruiser flying  the flag of truce. I apprehended  no danger of discovery by
Jaharian warriors  since I  knew that they  were all well  occupied below –
those who were not  fleeing for their lives – and so I sprang to the summit
of the  tower and hailed the  cruiser in a voice  that they might well hear
above the  howling of the mob. An answering hail came  from the deck of the
craft and  a moment later she dropped to the level  of the tower roof. With
the  help   of  the   crew  I  assisted   Phao  and  Sanoma   Tora  aboard.

The officer in command of the cruiser stepped to my side. "Our mission here
is fruitless," he said.  "Word has just been brought me that the palace has
fallen before  the onslaught  of a mob  of infuriated citizens.  The nobles
have  commandeered every  craft upon  which they  could lay hands  and have
fled. There is no one with whom we can negotiate a peace. No one knows what
has become of Tul Axtar."

"I  know,"  I told  him,  and  then I  narrated  what had  happened in  the
apartment of the Jeddara.

"We must pursue him,"  he said. "We must overtake him and carry him back to
the Warlord."

"Where shall we look?" I asked. "The Jhama may lie within a dozen sofads of
us and  even so we could  not see her. I shall  search for him; never fear,
and some  day I shall find  him, but it is  useless now to try  to find the
Jhama. Let us return to the flagship of the Warlord."

I  do  not  know that  John  Carter  fully realized  the  loss  that I  had
sustained, but I suspect that he did for he offered me all the resources of
Helium in my search for Tavia.

I thanked him, but  asked only for a fast ship; one in which I might devote
the  remainder of my  life in what  I truly  believed would prove  a futile
search for Tavia, for  how could I know where in all wide Barsoom Tul Axtar
would elect to hide. Doubtless there were known to him many remote spots in
his  own empire  where  he could  live in  safety  for the  balance  of his
allotted time  on Barsoom. To such  a place he would  go and because of the
Jhama no man would  see him pass; there would be no clue by which to follow
him  and  he would  take Tavia  with  him and  she  would be  his slave.  I
shuddered   and   my   nails   sank  into   my   palms   at  the   thought.

The Warlord  ordered one of the newest and swiftest  fliers of Helium to be
brought alongside the flagship.  It was a trim craft of the semi-cabin type
that would easily accommodate  four or five in comfort. From his own stores
he had provisions and water transferred to it and he added wine from Ptarth
and jars of the famous honey of Dusar.

Sanoma Tora and  Phao had been sent at once to a  cabin by the Warlord, for
the deck  of a  man-of-war on duty  is no place  for women. I  was about to
depart  when a  messenger came saying  that Sanoma  Tora wished to  see me.

"I do not wish to see her," I replied.

"Her  companion also begged  that you  would come," replied  the messenger.

That was  different. I had almost forgotten Phao, but  if she wished to see
me I would go, and so I went at once to the cabin where the two girls were.
As  I entered  Sanoma Tora came  forward and  threw herself upon  her knees
before me.

"Have pity on me, Hadron of Hastor," she cried. "I have been wicked, but it
was my  vanity and not my  heart that sinned. Do not  go away. Come back to
Helium and  I will devote my life to your  happiness. Tor Hatan, my father,
is  rich.  The  mate  of  his  only  child  may live  forever  in  luxury."

I am afraid that  my lips curled to the sneer that was  in my heart. What a
petty soul  was hers! Even in  her humiliation and her  penitence she could
see no  beauty and no happiness greater than  wealth and power. She thought
that  she was  changed, but  I knew  that Sanoma  Tora never  could change.

"Forgive me, Tan Hadron,"  she cried. "Come back to me, for I love you. Now
I know that I love you."

"Your love has come too late, Sanoma Tora," I said.

"You love another?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"The Jeddara  of some of the strange countries  you have been through?" she
asked.

"A slave girl," I replied.

Her eyes  went wide in incredulity.  She could not conceive  that one might
choose a  slave girl to the daughter of  Tor Hatan. "Impossible," she said.

"It is true, though," I assured her; "a little slave girl is more desirable
to Tan  Hadron of Hastor than  is Sanoma Tora, the  daughter of Tor Hatan,"
and with  that I  turned my back  upon her and faced  Phao. "Good-bye, dear
friend," I  said. "Doubtless we shall never meet again,  but I shall see to
it that you have a good home in Hastor. I shall speak to the Warlord before
I leave and have him send you directly to my mother."

She laid  her hand upon my shoulder. "Let me go  with you, Tan Hadron," she
said. "for  perhaps while  you are searching  for Tavia you  will pass near
Jhama.

I understood  instantly what she meant, and  I reproached myself for having
even temporarily forgotten Nur  An. "You shall come with me, Phao," I said,
"and my first duty shall be to return to Jhama. and rescue Nur An from poor
old Phor Tak."

Without another glance at  Sanoma Tora I led Phao from the cabin, and after
a  few parting  words  with the  Warlord we  boarded my  new ship  and with
friendly   farewells    in   our   ears,   headed    west   toward   Jhama.

Being no longer protected  by the invisibility compound of Phor Tak, or the
disintegrating ray resisting paint of Jahar, we were forced to keep a sharp
lookout for enemy ships,  of which I had but little fear if we sighted them
in time for I knew that I could outdistance any of them.

I set  the destination control  compass upon Jhama and  opened the throttle
wide; the swift Barsoomian night had fallen; the only sound was the rush of
thin air along our  sides which drowned out the quiet purring of our motor.

For  the first  time since  I had found  her again  on the quarters  of the
Jeddara  at Jahar, I  had an opportunity  to talk  with Phao and  the first
thing I  asked her was for  an explanation of the  abandonment of the Jhama
after Tul Axtar had grounded Tavia and me in U-Gor.

"It was  an accident," she said, "that threw Tul Axtar  into a great fit of
rage.  We were headed  for Jahar." when  he sighted  one of his  own ships,
which took us aboard as soon as they discovered the identity of the jeddak.
It  was night  and in the  confusion of  boarding the Jaharian  warship Tul
Axtar momentarily  forgot the Jhama  which must have drifted  away from the
larger craft the moment  that we left her. They cruised about searching for
her for awhile,  but at last they had to give it  up and the ship proceeded
toward Jahar."

The miracle of  the presence of the Jhama at the top  of the peak, where we
had so  providentially found it in  time to escape from  the hunting men of
U-Gor, was  now no longer a  miracle. The prevailing winds  in this part of
Barsoom are  from the northwest at this time of  year. The Jhama had merely
drifted with  the wind  and chanced to  lodge upon the highest  peak of the
range.

Phao also  told me why Tul  Axtar had originally abducted  Sanoma Tora from
Helium. He  had had his secret agents at Helium  for some time previous and
they had reported  to him that the best way to lure  the fleet of Helium to
Jahar was to abduct a woman of some noble family. He had instructed them to
select a  beautiful one, and so  they had decided upon  the daughter of Tor
Hatan.

"But how did they  expect to lure the fleet of Helium to Jahar if they left
no  clue as  to the  identity of  the abductors  of Sanoma Tora?"  I asked.

"They left  no clue at the time because Tul Axtar  was not ready to receive
the attack of Helium,"  explained Phao; "but he had already sent his agents
word to  drop a hint as  to the whereabout of  Sanoma Tora when John Carter
learned   through   other  sources   the   identity   of  her   abductors."

"So it  all worked out the way Tul Axtar had  planned," I said, "except the
finish."

We passed the hours  with brief snatches of conversation and long silences,
each occupied  with his own thoughts  – Phao's doubtless a  mixture of hope
and fear,  but there  was little room  for hope in mine.  The only pleasant
prospects that  lay before me lay in rescuing Nur  An and reuniting him and
Phao. After  that I would take them to any country  to which they wished to
go  and then  return to  the vicinity  of Jahar  and prosecute  my hopeless
search.

I heard  what you said to  Sanoma Tora in the  cabin of the flagship," said
Phao after a long silence, "and I was glad."

I  said a  number  of things,"  I reminded  her; "to  which do  you refer?"

"You said that you loved Tavia," she replied.

"I  said nothing  of the  kind," I  rejoined rather  shortly, for  I almost
loathed that word.

"But you  did," she insisted. "You said that you  loved a little slave girl
and  I  know  that   you  love  Tavia.  I  have  seen  it  in  your  eyes."

"You have seen nothing of the kind. Because you are in love, you think that
everyone must be."

She laughed. "You love her and she loves you."

"We are  only friends – very good friends,"  I insisted, "and furthermore I
know that Tavia does not love me."

"How do you know?"

"Let us  not speak of it  any more," I said, but though  I did not speak of
it, I thought about it. I recalled that I had told Sanoma Tora that I loved
a little slave girl and I knew that I had had Tavia in my mind at the time,
but I  thought that I  had said it more  to wound Sanoma Tora  than for any
other purpose. I tried to analyze my own feelings, but at last I gave it up
as a foolish thing  to do. Of course, I did not love Tavia; I loved no one;
love was not for me – Sanoma Tora had killed it within my breast, and I was
equally sure  that Tavia did not love me; if she  had, she would have shown
it and  I was quite sure that she had  never demonstrated any other feeling
for me  than the finest of  comradeship. We were just  what she had said we
were – comrades in arms and nothing else.

It was still dark  when I saw the gleaming white palace of Phor Tak shining
softly in the moonlight  far below us. Late as it was, there were lights in
some  of the  rooms. I  had hoped that  all would  he asleep, for  my plans
depended upon my ability to enter the palace secretly. I knew that Phor Tak
never  kept any watch  at night, feeling  that none  was needed in  such an
isolated spot.

Silently I dropped the  flier until it rested upon the roof of the building
where Nur An and  I had first landed, for I knew that  there I would find a
passage to the palace below.

"Wait here  at the controls, Phao," I whispered. "Nur An  and I may have to
come away in a hurry and you must be ready."

She  nodded her  head  understandingly, and  a moment  later I  had slipped
quietly to the roof  and was approaching the opening that led down into the
interior.

As I paused at  the top of the spiral ramp I felt  quickly of my weapons to
see that  each was in its  place. John Carter had  fitted me out anew. Once
more I stood in  the leather and metal of Helium, with a full complement of
weapons such  as belong to a fighting man of Barsoom.  My long sword was of
the best steel, for it was one of John Carter's own. Beside this, I carried
a short sword and a dagger, and once again a heavy radium pistol hung at my
hip.  I loosened the  latter in its  holster as  I started down  the spiral
ramp.

As  I  approached the  bottom  I  heard a  voice.  It was  coming from  the
direction  of Phor  Tak's  laboratory, the  door of  which opened  upon the
corridor  at the  bottom of  the ramp.  I crept  slowly downward.  The door
leading  to the  laboratory was  closed. Two  men were conversing.  I could
recognize the thin, high voice of Phor Tak; the other voice was not that of
Nur An; yet it was strangely familiar.

"–riches beyond your dream," I heard the second man say.

"I do not need  riches," cackled Phor Tak. "Heigh-oo! Presently I shall own
all the riches in the world."

"You will need help," I could hear the other man say in a pleading tone. "I
can  give  you  help;  you  shall  have  every  ship of  my  great  fleet."

That  remark brought  me upstanding –  "every ship  of my great  fleet!" It
could not be possible and yet–

Gently  I  tried the  door.  To my  surprise  it swung  open revealing  the
interior of  the room. Beneath a  bright light stood Tul  Axtar. Fifty feet
from  him Phor Tak  was standing behind  a bench  upon which was  mounted a
disintegrating ray rifle, aimed full at Tul Axtar.

Where was Tavia? Where  was Nur An? Perhaps this man alone knew where Tavia
was and Phor  Tak was about to destroy him. With a  cry of warning I leaped
into the room. Tul  Axtar and Phor Tak looked at me quickly, surprise large
upon their countenances.

"Heigh-oo!"  screamed the  old  inventor. "So  you have  come  back! Knave!
Ingrate! Traitor! But you have come back only to die."

"Wait," I cried, raising my hand. "Let me speak."

"Silence!" screamed Phor Tak. "You shall see Tul Axtar die. I hated to kill
him without  someone to see –  someone to witness his  death agony. I shall
have my revenge on him first and then on you."

"Stop!" I cried. His finger was already hovering over the button that would
snatch Tul Axtar into  oblivion, perhaps with the secret of the whereabouts
of Tavia.

I  drew  my pistol.  Phor  Tak  made a  sudden  motion with  his hands  and
disappeared.  He  vanished  as  though  turned  to  thin  air  by  his  own
disintegrating  rays, but  I knew  what had  happened. I  knew that  he had
thrown  a mantle  of invisibility around  himself and  I fired at  the spot
where he had last been visible.

At  the same  instant the  floor opened  beneath me  and I shot  into utter
darkness.

I  felt  myself hurtling  along  a  smooth surface  which gradually  became
horizontal  and an  instant later  I shot  into a dimly  lighted apartment,
which  I   knew  must   be  located  in   the  pits  beneath   the  palace.

I had clung to my pistol as I fell and now, as I arose to my feet, I thrust
it back into its holster; at least I was not unarmed.

The dim  light in the apartment,  which was little better  than no light at
all, I  discovered, came  from a ventilator  in the ceiling  and that aside
from  the shaft  that  had conducted  me to  the cell,  there was  no other
opening in the wall  or ceiling or floor. The ventilator was about two feet
in diameter and led  straight up from the center of the ceiling to the roof
of the building, several levels above. The lower end of the shaft was about
two feet above my finger tips when I extended them high above my head. This
avenue of  escape, then,  was useless, but,  alas, how tantalizing.  It was
maddening to see daylight  and an open avenue to the outer world just above
me and be  unable to reach it. I was glad that  the sun had risen, throwing
its quick light over  the scene, for had I fallen here in utter darkness my
plight would  have seemed infinitely worse than  now, and my first ancestor
knew that it was bad enough. I turned my attention now to the chute through
which I  had descended  and I found that  I could ascend it  quite a little
distance, but presently it  turned steeply upward and its smoothly polished
walls were unscalable.

I  returned  to  the pits.  I  must  escape, but  now,  as  my eyes  became
accustomed  to the  dim light,  I saw  strewn about  the floor,  that which
snatched away  my last hope and filled me  with horror. Everywhere upon the
stone flagging were heaps and mounds of human bones picked clean by gnawing
rats. I shuddered as I contemplated the coming of night. How long before my
bones, too, would be numbered among the rest?

The thought made me frantic, not for myself but for Tavia. I could not die.
I must not die. I must live until I had found her.

Hastily I  circled the room, searching  for some clue to  hope, but I found
only rough-hewn stone set in soft mortar.

Soft mortar!  With the realization, hope  dawned anew. If I  could remove a
few of these  blocks and pile them one on top of  the other, I might easily
reach the  shaft that terminated in  the ceiling above my  head. Drawing my
dagger I  fell to work, scraping and scratching at  the mortar about one of
the stones  in the nearest wall. It seemed slow work,  but in reality I had
loosened the  stone in an incredibly short time.  The mortar was poor stuff
and crumbled  away easily. As I  drew the block out  my first plan faded in
the light of what I saw in front of me. Beyond the opening I saw a corridor
at  the foot  of a spiral  ramp leading  upward, and from  somewhere above,
daylight was filtering down.

I  knew that  if I  could remove three  more of  those stones before  I was
detected I could worm my body through the opening into the corridor beyond,
and you may well believe that I worked rapidly.

One by  one the blocks were loosened and removed and  it was with a feeling
of exultation  that I  slipped through into  the corridor. Above  me rose a
spiral ramp. Where it  led, I did not know, but at least  it led out of the
pits. Cautiously, and yet without any hesitation, I ascended. I must try to
reach the laboratory before Phor Tak had slain Tul Axtar. This time I would
make sure of the old inventor before I entered the room and I prayed to all
my ancestors that I should be in time.

Doors,  leading from  the ramp to  various levels  of the palace,  were all
locked and I was  forced to ascend to the roof. As it chanced the wing upon
which I  found myself was more or less detached, so  that at first glance I
could  see no  way  whereby I  could make  my  way from  it  to any  of the
adjoining roofs.

As I  walked around  the edge of  the building hurriedly,  looking for some
means of descent to the roof below, I saw something one level below me that
instantly  charged my  attention.  It was  a  man's leg  protruding from  a
window, as though he  had thrown one limb across the sill. A moment later I
saw  an arm  emerge, and  the top of  a man's  head and his  shoulders were
visible as he leaned out. He reached down and up and I saw something appear
directly  beneath him  that  had not  been there  before,  and at  the same
instant I  caught a glimpse of  a girl, lying a  few feet further down, and
then I saw the man slide over the sill quickly and drop down and disappear,
and   all  that   lay   below  me   was  the   flagging  of   a  courtyard.

But in that brief  instant I knew precisely what I had seen. I had seen Tul
Axtar raise  the hatch of the Jhama. I had seen  Tavia lying bound upon the
floor  of the  ship  beneath the  hatch. I  had  seen Tul  Axtar  enter the
interior   of   the   craft   and  close   the   hatch   above  his   head.

It takes  a long while to  tell it when compared with  the time in which it
actually transpired; nor was I so long in acting as I have been in telling.

As the hatch closed, I leaped.

Seventeen

                             I FIND A PRINCESS

IT WOULD BE AS  UNREASONABLE to aver that I fully visualized the outcome of
my act  as I leaped out into space with nothing  visible between me and the
flagstones of the courtyard  forty feet below as it would be to assume that
I acted solely upon unreasoning impulse. There are emergencies in which the
mind  functions  with  inconceivable  celerity. Perceptions  are  received,
judgments arrived  at and reason  operates to a definite  conclusion all so
swiftly that  the three acts  appear simultaneous. Thus must  have been the
process in this instance.

I knew  where the narrow walkway upon the upper deck  of the Jhama must lie
in the seemingly empty  space below me, for I had jumped almost the instant
that the hatch  had closed. Of course I know now, and  I knew then, that it
would have  been a dangerous feat  and difficult of achievement  even had I
been able to see  the Jhama below me; yet as I look  back upon it now there
was nothing else  that I could have done. It was my  one, my last chance to
save  Tavia  from  a  fate worse  than  death  –  it  was  perhaps my  last
opportunity ever  to see  her again. As  I jumped then I  should jump again
under like conditions even  though I knew that I should miss the Jhama, for
now as then I  know that I should rather die than lose Tavia; although then
I did not know why, while now I do.

But I did not miss. I landed squarely upon my feet upon the narrow walkway.
The impact  of my  weight upon the upper  deck of the craft  must have been
noticeable to  Tul Axtar, for I could feel the  Jhama drop a little beneath
me. Doubtless  he wondered  what had happened,  but I do not  think that he
guessed the truth. However, he did not raise the hatch as I hoped he would,
but  instead  he must  have  leaped  to the  controls  at  once for  almost
immediately  the  Jhama rose  swiftly  at  an acute  angle,  which made  it
difficult for me to cling to her since her upper deck was not equipped with
harness  rings. By  grasping  the forward  edge of  the turret,  however, I
managed to hold on.

As  Tul Axtar  gained  sufficient altitude  and straightened  out  upon his
course  he opened  the  throttle wide  so that  the wind  rushing at  me at
terrific velocity seemed momentarily  upon the point of carrying me from my
precarious hold and hurtling me to the ground far below. Fortunately I am a
strong man  – none other could have survived that  ordeal – yet how utterly
helpless I was.

Had Tul  Axtar guessed the truth  he could have raised  the after hatch and
had me at his  mercy, for though my pistol hung at my side I could not have
released either hand to use it, but doubtless Tul Axtar did not know, or if
he did  he hoped that the high speed of the  ship would dislodge whoever or
whatever it might have been that he felt drop upon it.

I had hung there but a short time before I realized that eventually my hold
must  weaken  and be  torn  loose. Something  must  be done  to rectify  my
position. Tavia  must be saved and  because I alone could  save her, I must
not die.

Straining every  thew I dragged myself further forward  until I lay with my
chest upon  the turret. Slowly, inch by inch,  I wormed myself forward. The
tubular sheeting  of the periscope was just in front of  me. If I could but
reach that  with one hand I  might hope to attain  greater safety. The wind
was buffeting  me, seeking to tear me away. I sought  a better hold with my
left forearm  about the turret and  then I reached quickly  forward with my
right hand and my fingers closed about the sheathing.

After that  it was not difficult to stretch a part  of my harness about the
front of the turret. Now I found that I could have one hand free, but until
the  ship   stopped  I   could  not  hope  to   accomplish  anything  more.

What was transpiring beneath  me? Could Tavia be safe even for a brief time
in the power of  Tul Axtar? The thought drove me frantic. The Jhama must be
stopped, and then an inspiration came to me.

With my  free hand I unsnapped my pocket pouch  from my harness and drawing
myself still further forward,  I managed to place the opened pouch over the
eye of the periscope.

Immediately  Tul Axtar  was blind; he  could see  nothing, nor was  it long
before  the reaction that  I had expected  and hoped  for came –  the Jhama
slowed down and finally came to a stop.

I had  been lying  partially upon the  forward hatch and now  I drew myself
away from  and in front of  it. I hoped that it  would be the forward hatch
that he  would open. It was the closer to him.  I waited, and then glancing
forward I  saw that he was  opening the ports. In this  way he could see to
navigate the ship and my plan was blocked.

I was disappointed, but  I would not give up hope. Very quietly I tried the
forward  hatch, but  it  was locked  upon the  inside. Then  I made  my way
swiftly and silently to the after hatch. If he should start the Jhama again
at full speed now, doubtless I should be lost, but I felt that I was forced
to risk the chance. Already the Jhama was in motion again as I laid my hand
upon the  hatch cover. This time I was neither  silent nor gentle. I heaved
vigorously and  the hatch opened. Not an instant did  I hesitate and as the
Jhama leaped forward again at full speed, I dropped through the hatchway to
the interior of the craft.

As I  struck the deck Tul Axtar heard me and  wheeling from the controls to
face me, he recognized me. I think I never before beheld such an expression
of mingled astonishment, hatred  and fear as convulsed his features. At his
feet  lay Tavia, so  quietly still that  I thought  her dead, and  then Tul
Axtar reached for  his pistol and I for mine, but I  had led a cleaner life
than Tul  Axtar had. My  mind and muscles coordinate  with greater celerity
than  can   those  of  one  who  has   wasted  his  fiber  in  dissipation.

Point blank I fired at his putrid heart and Tul Axtar, Jeddak and tyrant of
Jahar,   lunged  forward   upon  the   lower  deck   of  the   Jhama  dead.

Instantly I sprang to  Tavia’s side and turned her over. She had been bound
and gagged and, for some unaccountable reason, blindfolded as well, but she
was not dead. I  almost sobbed for joy when I realized that. How my fingers
seemed to  fumble in their haste  to free her; yet it  was only a matter of
seconds   ere  it   was  done  and   I  was   crushing  her  in   my  arms.

I know  that my tears fell upon her upturned face  as our lips were pressed
together, but I am  not ashamed of that, and Tavia wept too and clung to me
and I  could feel her dear body tremble. How  terrified she must have been,
and yet I know  she had never shown it to Tul Axtar.  It was the reaction –
the  mingling of relief  and joy at  the moment  that the despair  had been
blackest.

In that instant, as our hearts beat together and she drew me closer to her,
a great  truth dawned upon me.  What a stupid fool I  had been! How could I
ever have thought that the sentiment that I entertained for Sanoma Tora was
love? How could I  ever believe that my love for Tavia had been such a weak
thing  as   friendship?  I   drew  her  closer,  if   such  were  possible.

"My princess," I whispered.

Upon Barsoom  those two words, spoken  by man to maid,  have a peculiar and
unalterable significance, for no  man speaks thus to any woman that he does
not wish for wife.

"No, no," sobbed  Tavia, "Take me, I am yours; but I  am only a slave girl.
Tan Hadron of Hastor cannot mate with such."

Even then  she thought only of  me and my happiness,  and not of herself at
all. How  different she was from such as Sanoma Tora?  I had risked my life
to win a clod of dirt and I had found a priceless jewel.

I looked  her in  the eyes, those  beautiful, fathomless wells  of love and
understanding. "I  love you, Tavia," I  said. "Tell me that  I may have the
right to call you my princess."

"Even though I be a slave?" she asked.

"Even  though you were  a thousand times  less than  a slave," I  told her.

She sighed  and snuggled closer to  me. "My chieftain," she  whispered in a
low, low voice.

That, as  far as I, Tan  Hadron of Hastor, is concerned,  is the end of the
story. That instant marked the highest pinnacle to which I may ever hope to
achieve, but  there is more that may interest those  who have come thus far
with me  upon adventures that have carried me  half way around the southern
hemisphere of Barsoom.

When Tavia  and I could tear ourselves apart, which  was not soon, I opened
the lower hatch and let the corpse of Tul Axtar find its last resting place
upon the  barren ground below. Then  we turned back toward  Jhama, where we
discovered that earlier in  the morning Nur An had come to one of the roofs
of the palace and been discovered by Phao.

When Nur An had  learned that I had entered the palace just before dawn, he
had become apprehensive and instituted a search for me. He had not known of
the  coming of  Tul Axtar and  believed that  the Jeddak must  have arrived
after he  had retired for the  night; nor had he  known how close Tavia had
been,   lying  bound   in  the   Jhama  close   beside  the   palace  wall.

His search of the  palace, however, had revealed the fact that Phor Tak was
missing. He had summoned the slaves and a careful search had been made, but
no sign of Phor Tak was visible.

It  occurred  to  me  then that  I  might  solve  the  question  as to  the
whereabouts  of  the old  scientist.  "Come with  me,"  I said  to Nur  An;
"Perhaps I can find Phor Tak for you."

I led  him to the laboratory.  "There is no use  searching there," he said,
"we have  looked in  a hundred times  today. A glance will  reveal the fact
that the laboratory is deserted."

"Wait,"  I said.  "Let us  not be  in too  much of  a hurry. Come  with me;
perhaps yet I may disclose the whereabouts of Phor Tak."

With a  shrug he  followed me as  I entered the vast  laboratory and walked
toward the  bench upon which a disintegrating  rifle was mounted. Just back
of the bench my  foot struck something that I could not see, but that I had
rather expected to find there, and stooping I felt a huddled form beneath a
covering of soft cloth.

My fingers  closed upon  the invisible fabric  and I drew  it aside. There,
before us on the floor, lay the dead body of Phor Tak, a bullet bole in the
center of his breast.

"Name of Issus!" cried Nur An. "Who did this?"

"I," I replied, and  then I told him what had happened in the laboratory as
the last night waned.

He looked  around hurriedly.  "Cover it up  quickly," he said.  "The slaves
must  not know. They  would destroy us.  Let us  get out of  here quickly."

I drew  the cloak of invisibility over the body of  Phor Tak again. "I have
work here before I leave," I said.

"What?" he demanded.

"Help me  gather all of the disintegrating rays  shells and rifles into one
end of the room."

"What are you going to do?" he demanded.

"I am going to save a world, Nur An," I said.

Then he fell to and helped me and when they were all collected in a pile at
the far  end of the laboratory, I selected a  single shell and returning to
the rifle  mounted upon the bench I inserted it  in the chamber, closed the
block and  turned the muzzle of the  weapon upon that frightful aggregation
of death and disaster.

As I pressed the  button all that remained in Jhama of Phor Tak's dangerous
invention disappeared in thin  air, with the exception of the single rifle,
for which  there remained no ammunition. With it had  gone his model of The
Flying Death and with him the secret had been lost.

Nur An told me  that the slaves were becoming suspicious of us and as there
was no  necessity of risking ourselves further,  we embarked upon the flier
that John Carter had given me, and, taking the Jhama in tow, set our course
toward Helium.

We overtook the fleet  shortly before it reached the Twin Cities of Greater
Helium and  Lesser Helium  and upon the  deck of John  Carter's flagship we
received  a  welcome and  a  great  ovation, and  shortly thereafter  there
occurred one of the most remarkable and dramatic incidents that I have ever
beheld. We were holding something of an informal reception upon the forward
deck of the great  battleship. Officers and nobles were pressing forward to
be presented  and numerous  were the appreciative eyes  that admired Tavia.

It was the turn  of the Dwar, Kal Tavan, who had been a slave in the palace
of Tor Hatan. As  he came face to face with Tavia, I saw a look of surprise
in his eyes.

"Your name is Tavia?" he repeated.

"Yes," she said, "and yours is Tavan. They are similar."

"I do not  need to ask from what country you are,"  he said. "You are Tavia
of Tjanath."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because you  are my daughter," he replied. "Tavia  is the name your mother
gave you. You look  like her. By that alone I should have known my daughter
anywhere."

Very gently he took  her in his arms and I saw tears  in his eyes, and hers
too, as he pressed his lips against her forehead, and then he turned to me.

"They told me that the brave Tan Hadron of Hastor had chosen to mate with a
slave  girl," he  said;  "but that  is true.  Your princess  is in  truth a
princess – the granddaughter  of a jed. She might have been the daughter of
a jed had I remained in Tjanath."

How  devious  are  the  paths  of  fate!  How strange  and  unexpected  the
destinations to which they lead. I had set out upon one of these paths with
the intention  of marrying Sanoma Tora at the end.  Sanoma Tora had set out
upon another in the hopes of marrying a Jeddak. At the end of her path, she
had found  only ignominy  and disgrace. At  the end of  mine I  had found a
princess.

                                  THE END

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