Warlord of Mars
by
Edgar Rice Burroughs
Part 1 out of 4
This etext was typed by Judy Boss, proofread by Charles Keller
Warlord of Mars
By Edgar Rice Burroughs
CONTENTS
On the River Iss
Under the Mountains
The Temple of the Sun
The Secret Tower
On the Kaolian Road
A Hero in Kaol
New Allies
Through the Carrion Caves
With the Yellow Men
In Durance
The Pity of Plenty
"Follow the Rope!"
The Magnet Switch
The Tide of Battle
Rewards
The New Ruler
ON THE RIVER ISS
In the shadows of the forest that flanks the crimson plain by the
side of the Lost Sea of Korus in the Valley Dor, beneath the hurtling
moons of Mars, speeding their meteoric way close above the bosom of
the dying planet, I crept stealthily along the trail of a shadowy
form that hugged the darker places with a persistency that proclaimed
the sinister nature of its errand.
For six long Martian months I had haunted the vicinity of the
hateful Temple of the Sun, within whose slow-revolving shaft, far
beneath the surface of Mars, my princess lay entombed--but whether
alive or dead I knew not. Had Phaidor's slim blade found that
beloved heart? Time only would reveal the truth.
Six hundred and eighty-seven Martian days must come and go before
the cell's door would again come opposite the tunnel's end where
last I had seen my ever-beautiful Dejah Thoris.
Half of them had passed, or would on the morrow, yet vivid in my
memory, obliterating every event that had come before or after,
there remained the last scene before the gust of smoke blinded my
eyes and the narrow slit that had given me sight of the interior
of her cell closed between me and the Princess of Helium for a long
Martian year.
As if it were yesterday, I still saw the beautiful face of Phaidor,
daughter of Matai Shang, distorted with jealous rage and hatred as
she sprang forward with raised dagger upon the woman I loved.
I saw the red girl, Thuvia of Ptarth, leap forward to prevent the
hideous deed.
The smoke from the burning temple had come then to blot out the
tragedy, but in my ears rang the single shriek as the knife fell.
Then silence, and when the smoke had cleared, the revolving temple
had shut off all sight or sound from the chamber in which the three
beautiful women were imprisoned.
Much there had been to occupy my attention since that terrible moment;
but never for an instant had the memory of the thing faded, and
all the time that I could spare from the numerous duties that had
devolved upon me in the reconstruction of the government of the
First Born since our victorious fleet and land forces had overwhelmed
them, had been spent close to the grim shaft that held the mother
of my boy, Carthoris of Helium.
The race of blacks that for ages had worshiped Issus, the false
deity of Mars, had been left in a state of chaos by my revealment
of her as naught more than a wicked old woman. In their rage they
had torn her to pieces.
From the high pinnacle of their egotism the First Born had been
plunged to the depths of humiliation. Their deity was gone, and
with her the whole false fabric of their religion. Their vaunted
navy had fallen in defeat before the superior ships and fighting
men of the red men of Helium.
Fierce green warriors from the ocher sea bottoms of outer Mars had
ridden their wild thoats across the sacred gardens of the Temple
of Issus, and Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, fiercest of them all,
had sat upon the throne of Issus and ruled the First Born while
the allies were deciding the conquered nation's fate.
Almost unanimous was the request that I ascend the ancient throne
of the black men, even the First Born themselves concurring in it;
but I would have none of it. My heart could never be with the race
that had heaped indignities upon my princess and my son.
At my suggestion Xodar became Jeddak of the First Born. He had
been a dator, or prince, until Issus had degraded him, so that his
fitness for the high office bestowed was unquestioned.
The peace of the Valley Dor thus assured, the green warriors dispersed
to their desolate sea bottoms, while we of Helium returned to our
own country. Here again was a throne offered me, since no word
had been received from the missing Jeddak of Helium, Tardos Mors,
grandfather of Dejah Thoris, or his son, Mors Kajak, Jed of Helium,
her father.
Over a year had elapsed since they had set out to explore the northern
hemisphere in search of Carthoris, and at last their disheartened
people had accepted as truth the vague rumors of their death that
had filtered in from the frozen region of the pole.
Once again I refused a throne, for I would not believe that the
mighty Tardos Mors, or his no less redoubtable son, was dead.
"Let one of their own blood rule you until they return," I said
to the assembled nobles of Helium, as I addressed them from the
Pedestal of Truth beside the Throne of Righteousness in the Temple
of Reward, from the very spot where I had stood a year before when
Zat Arras pronounced the sentence of death upon me.
As I spoke I stepped forward and laid my hand upon the shoulder of
Carthoris where he stood in the front rank of the circle of nobles
about me.
As one, the nobles and the people lifted their voices in a long
cheer of approbation. Ten thousand swords sprang on high from as
many scabbards, and the glorious fighting men of ancient Helium
hailed Carthoris Jeddak of Helium.
His tenure of office was to be for life or until his great-grandfather,
or grandfather, should return. Having thus satisfactorily arranged
this important duty for Helium, I started the following day for
the Valley Dor that I might remain close to the Temple of the Sun
until the fateful day that should see the opening of the prison
cell where my lost love lay buried.
Hor Vastus and Kantos Kan, with my other noble lieutenants, I left
with Carthoris at Helium, that he might have the benefit of their
wisdom, bravery, and loyalty in the performance of the arduous
duties which had devolved upon him. Only Woola, my Martian hound,
accompanied me.
At my heels tonight the faithful beast moved softly in my tracks.
As large as a Shetland pony, with hideous head and frightful fangs,
he was indeed an awesome spectacle, as he crept after me on his
ten short, muscular legs; but to me he was the embodiment of love
and loyalty.
The figure ahead was that of the black dator of the First Born,
Thurid, whose undying enmity I had earned that time I laid him low
with my bare hands in the courtyard of the Temple of Issus, and
bound him with his own harness before the noble men and women who
had but a moment before been extolling his prowess.
Like many of his fellows, he had apparently accepted the new order
of things with good grace, and had sworn fealty to Xodar, his new
ruler; but I knew that he hated me, and I was sure that in his heart
he envied and hated Xodar, so I had kept a watch upon his comings
and goings, to the end that of late I had become convinced that he
was occupied with some manner of intrigue.
Several times I had observed him leaving the walled city of the
First Born after dark, taking his way out into the cruel and horrible
Valley Dor, where no honest business could lead any man.
Tonight he moved quickly along the edge of the forest until well
beyond sight or sound of the city, then he turned across the crimson
sward toward the shore of the Lost Sea of Korus.
The rays of the nearer moon, swinging low across the valley, touched
his jewel-incrusted harness with a thousand changing lights and
glanced from the glossy ebony of his smooth hide. Twice he turned
his head back toward the forest, after the manner of one who is upon
an evil errand, though he must have felt quite safe from pursuit.
I did not dare follow him there beneath the moonlight, since it
best suited my plans not to interrupt his--I wished him to reach
his destination unsuspecting, that I might learn just where that
destination lay and the business that awaited the night prowler
there.
So it was that I remained hidden until after Thurid had disappeared
over the edge of the steep bank beside the sea a quarter of a mile
away. Then, with Woola following, I hastened across the open after
the black dator.
The quiet of the tomb lay upon the mysterious valley of death,
crouching deep in its warm nest within the sunken area at the south
pole of the dying planet. In the far distance the Golden Cliffs
raised their mighty barrier faces far into the starlit heavens,
the precious metals and scintillating jewels that composed them
sparkling in the brilliant light of Mars's two gorgeous moons.
At my back was the forest, pruned and trimmed like the sward to
parklike symmetry by the browsing of the ghoulish plant men.
Before me lay the Lost Sea of Korus, while farther on I caught the
shimmering ribbon of Iss, the River of Mystery, where it wound out
from beneath the Golden Cliffs to empty into Korus, to which for
countless ages had been borne the deluded and unhappy Martians of
the outer world upon the voluntary pilgrimage to this false heaven.
The plant men, with their blood-sucking hands, and the monstrous
white apes that make Dor hideous by day, were hidden in their lairs
for the night.
There was no longer a Holy Thern upon the balcony in the Golden
Cliffs above the Iss to summon them with weird cry to the victims
floating down to their maws upon the cold, broad bosom of ancient
Iss.
The navies of Helium and the First Born had cleared the fortresses
and the temples of the therns when they had refused to surrender and
accept the new order of things that had swept their false religion
from long-suffering Mars.
In a few isolated countries they still retained their age-old power;
but Matai Shang, their hekkador, Father of Therns, had been driven
from his temple. Strenuous had been our endeavors to capture
him; but with a few of the faithful he had escaped, and was in
hiding--where we knew not.
As I came cautiously to the edge of the low cliff overlooking the
Lost Sea of Korus I saw Thurid pushing out upon the bosom of the
shimmering water in a small skiff--one of those strangely wrought craft
of unthinkable age which the Holy Therns, with their organization
of priests and lesser therns, were wont to distribute along the
banks of the Iss, that the long journey of their victims might be
facilitated.
Drawn up on the beach below me were a score of similar boats, each
with its long pole, at one end of which was a pike, at the other
a paddle. Thurid was hugging the shore, and as he passed out of
sight round a near-by promontory I shoved one of the boats into
the water and, calling Woola into it, pushed out from shore.
The pursuit of Thurid carried me along the edge of the sea toward
the mouth of the Iss. The farther moon lay close to the horizon,
casting a dense shadow beneath the cliffs that fringed the water.
Thuria, the nearer moon, had set, nor would it rise again for near
four hours, so that I was ensured concealing darkness for that
length of time at least.
On and on went the black warrior. Now he was opposite the mouth
of the Iss. Without an instant's hesitation he turned up the grim
river, paddling hard against the strong current.
After him came Woola and I, closer now, for the man was too intent
upon forcing his craft up the river to have any eyes for what might
be transpiring behind him. He hugged the shore where the current
was less strong.
Presently he came to the dark cavernous portal in the face of the
Golden Cliffs, through which the river poured. On into the Stygian
darkness beyond he urged his craft.
It seemed hopeless to attempt to follow him here where I could not
see my hand before my face, and I was almost on the point of giving
up the pursuit and drifting back to the mouth of the river, there
to await his return, when a sudden bend showed a faint luminosity
ahead.
My quarry was plainly visible again, and in the increasing light
from the phosphorescent rock that lay embedded in great patches
in the roughly arched roof of the cavern I had no difficulty in
following him.
It was my first trip upon the bosom of Iss, and the things I saw
there will live forever in my memory.
Terrible as they were, they could not have commenced to approximate
the horrible conditions which must have obtained before Tars Tarkas,
the great green warrior, Xodar, the black dator, and I brought
the light of truth to the outer world and stopped the mad rush of
millions upon the voluntary pilgrimage to what they believed would
end in a beautiful valley of peace and happiness and love.
Even now the low islands which dotted the broad stream were choked
with the skeletons and half devoured carcasses of those who, through
fear or a sudden awakening to the truth, had halted almost at the
completion of their journey.
In the awful stench of these frightful charnel isles haggard maniacs
screamed and gibbered and fought among the torn remnants of their
grisly feasts; while on those which contained but clean-picked
bones they battled with one another, the weaker furnishing sustenance
for the stronger; or with clawlike hands clutched at the bloated
bodies that drifted down with the current.
Thurid paid not the slightest attention to the screaming things
that either menaced or pleaded with him as the mood directed
them--evidently he was familiar with the horrid sights that
surrounded him. He continued up the river for perhaps a mile; and
then, crossing over to the left bank, drew his craft up on a low
ledge that lay almost on a level with the water.
I dared not follow across the stream, for he most surely would have
seen me. Instead I stopped close to the opposite wall beneath an
overhanging mass of rock that cast a dense shadow beneath it. Here
I could watch Thurid without danger of discovery.
The black was standing upon the ledge beside his boat, looking up
the river, as though he were awaiting one whom he expected from
that direction.
As I lay there beneath the dark rocks I noticed that a strong
current seemed to flow directly toward the center of the river, so
that it was difficult to hold my craft in its position. I edged
farther into the shadow that I might find a hold upon the bank;
but, though I proceeded several yards, I touched nothing; and
then, finding that I would soon reach a point from where I could
no longer see the black man, I was compelled to remain where I was,
holding my position as best I could by paddling strongly against
the current which flowed from beneath the rocky mass behind me.
I could not imagine what might cause this strong lateral flow, for
the main channel of the river was plainly visible to me from where
I sat, and I could see the rippling junction of it and the mysterious
current which had aroused my curiosity.
While I was still speculating upon the phenomenon, my attention
was suddenly riveted upon Thurid, who had raised both palms forward
above his head in the universal salute of Martians, and a moment
later his "Kaor!" the Barsoomian word of greeting, came in low but
distinct tones.
I turned my eyes up the river in the direction that his were bent,
and presently there came within my limited range of vision a long
boat, in which were six men. Five were at the paddles, while the
sixth sat in the seat of honor.
The white skins, the flowing yellow wigs which covered their bald
pates, and the gorgeous diadems set in circlets of gold about their
heads marked them as Holy Therns.
As they drew up beside the ledge upon which Thurid awaited them,
he in the bow of the boat arose to step ashore, and then I saw that
it was none other than Matai Shang, Father of Therns.
The evident cordiality with which the two men exchanged greetings
filled me with wonder, for the black and white men of Barsoom were
hereditary enemies--nor ever before had I known of two meeting
other than in battle.
Evidently the reverses that had recently overtaken both peoples had
resulted in an alliance between these two individuals--at least
against the common enemy--and now I saw why Thurid had come so
often out into the Valley Dor by night, and that the nature of his
conspiring might be such as to strike very close to me or to my
friends.
I wished that I might have found a point closer to the two men
from which to have heard their conversation; but it was out of the
question now to attempt to cross the river, and so I lay quietly
watching them, who would have given so much to have known how close
I lay to them, and how easily they might have overcome and killed
me with their superior force.
Several times Thurid pointed across the river in my direction, but
that his gestures had any reference to me I did not for a moment
believe. Presently he and Matai Shang entered the latter's boat,
which turned out into the river and, swinging round, forged steadily
across in my direction.
As they advanced I moved my boat farther and farther in beneath the
overhanging wall, but at last it became evident that their craft
was holding the same course. The five paddlers sent the larger
boat ahead at a speed that taxed my energies to equal.
Every instant I expected to feel my prow crash against solid rock.
The light from the river was no longer visible, but ahead I saw
the faint tinge of a distant radiance, and still the water before
me was open.
At last the truth dawned upon me--I was following a subterranean
river which emptied into the Iss at the very point where I had
hidden.
The rowers were now quite close to me. The noise of their
own paddles drowned the sound of mine, but in another instant the
growing light ahead would reveal me to them.
There was no time to be lost. Whatever action I was to take must
be taken at once. Swinging the prow of my boat toward the right,
I sought the river's rocky side, and there I lay while Matai Shang
and Thurid approached up the center of the stream, which was much
narrower than the Iss.
As they came nearer I heard the voices of Thurid and the Father of
Therns raised in argument.
"I tell you, Thern," the black dator was saying, "that I wish only
vengeance upon John Carter, Prince of Helium. I am leading you
into no trap. What could I gain by betraying you to those who have
ruined my nation and my house?"
"Let us stop here a moment that I may hear your plans," replied the
hekkador, "and then we may proceed with a better understanding of
our duties and obligations."
To the rowers he issued the command that brought their boat in
toward the bank not a dozen paces beyond the spot where I lay.
Had they pulled in below me they must surely have seen me against
the faint glow of light ahead, but from where they finally came to
rest I was as secure from detection as though miles separated us.
The few words I had already overheard whetted my curiosity, and I
was anxious to learn what manner of vengeance Thurid was planning
against me. Nor had I long to wait. I listened intently.
"There are no obligations, Father of Therns," continued the First
Born. "Thurid, Dator of Issus, has no price. When the thing has
been accomplished I shall be glad if you will see to it that I am
well received, as is befitting my ancient lineage and noble rank,
at some court that is yet loyal to thy ancient faith, for I cannot
return to the Valley Dor or elsewhere within the power of the Prince
of Helium; but even that I do not demand--it shall be as your own
desire in the matter directs."
"It shall be as you wish, Dator," replied Matai Shang; "nor is that
all--power and riches shall be yours if you restore my daughter,
Phaidor, to me, and place within my power Dejah Thoris, Princess
of Helium.
"Ah," he continued with a malicious snarl, "but the Earth man shall
suffer for the indignities he has put upon the holy of holies, nor
shall any vileness be too vile to inflict upon his princess. Would
that it were in my power to force him to witness the humiliation
and degradation of the red woman."
"You shall have your way with her before another day has passed,
Matai Shang," said Thurid, "if you but say the word."
"I have heard of the Temple of the Sun, Dator," replied Matai Shang,
"but never have I heard that its prisoners could be released before
the allotted year of their incarceration had elapsed. How, then,
may you accomplish the impossible?"
"Access may be had to any cell of the temple at any time," replied
Thurid. "Only Issus knew this; nor was it ever Issus' way to
divulge more of her secrets than were necessary. By chance, after
her death, I came upon an ancient plan of the temple, and there I
found, plainly writ, the most minute directions for reaching the
cells at any time.
"And more I learned--that many men had gone thither for Issus in the
past, always on errands of death and torture to the prisoners; but
those who thus learned the secret way were wont to die mysteriously
immediately they had returned and made their reports to cruel
Issus."
"Let us proceed, then," said Matai Shang at last. "I must trust
you, yet at the same time you must trust me, for we are six to your
one."
"I do not fear," replied Thurid, "nor need you. Our hatred of
the common enemy is sufficient bond to insure our loyalty to each
other, and after we have defiled the Princess of Helium there will
be still greater reason for the maintenance of our allegiance--unless
I greatly mistake the temper of her lord."
Matai Shang spoke to the paddlers. The boat moved on up the
tributary.
It was with difficulty that I restrained myself from rushing upon
them and slaying the two vile plotters; but quickly I saw the mad
rashness of such an act, which would cut down the only man who could
lead the way to Dejah Thoris' prison before the long Martian year
had swung its interminable circle.
If he should lead Matai Shang to that hollowed spot, then, too,
should he lead John Carter, Prince of Helium.
With silent paddle I swung slowly into the wake of the larger craft.
UNDER THE MOUNTAINS
As we advanced up the river which winds beneath the Golden Cliffs
out of the bowels of the Mountains of Otz to mingle its dark waters
with the grim and mysterious Iss the faint glow which had appeared
before us grew gradually into an all-enveloping radiance.
The river widened until it presented the aspect of a large lake
whose vaulted dome, lighted by glowing phosphorescent rock, was
splashed with the vivid rays of the diamond, the sapphire, the ruby,
and the countless, nameless jewels of Barsoom which lay incrusted
in the virgin gold which forms the major portion of these magnificent
cliffs.
Beyond the lighted chamber of the lake was darkness--what lay behind
the darkness I could not even guess.
To have followed the thern boat across the gleaming water would
have been to invite instant detection, and so, though I was loath
to permit Thurid to pass even for an instant beyond my sight, I
was forced to wait in the shadows until the other boat had passed
from my sight at the far extremity of the lake.
Then I paddled out upon the brilliant surface in the direction they
had taken.
When, after what seemed an eternity, I reached the shadows at the
upper end of the lake I found that the river issued from a low
aperture, to pass beneath which it was necessary that I compel
Woola to lie flat in the boat, and I, myself, must need bend double
before the low roof cleared my head.
Immediately the roof rose again upon the other side, but no longer was
the way brilliantly lighted. Instead only a feeble glow emanated
from small and scattered patches of phosphorescent rock in wall
and roof.
Directly before me the river ran into this smaller chamber through
three separate arched openings.
Thurid and the therns were nowhere to be seen--into which of the
dark holes had they disappeared? There was no means by which I
might know, and so I chose the center opening as being as likely
to lead me in the right direction as another.
Here the way was through utter darkness. The stream was narrow--so
narrow that in the blackness I was constantly bumping first one
rock wall and then another as the river wound hither and thither
along its flinty bed.
Far ahead I presently heard a deep and sullen roar which increased
in volume as I advanced, and then broke upon my ears with all the
intensity of its mad fury as I swung round a sharp curve into a
dimly lighted stretch of water.
Directly before me the river thundered down from above in a mighty
waterfall that filled the narrow gorge from side to side, rising
far above me several hundred feet--as magnificent a spectacle as
I ever had seen.
But the roar--the awful, deafening roar of those tumbling waters
penned in the rocky, subterranean vault! Had the fall not entirely
blocked my further passage and shown me that I had followed the
wrong course I believe that I should have fled anyway before the
maddening tumult.
Thurid and the therns could not have come this way. By stumbling
upon the wrong course I had lost the trail, and they had gained so
much ahead of me that now I might not be able to find them before
it was too late, if, in fact, I could find them at all.
It had taken several hours to force my way up to the falls against
the strong current, and other hours would be required for the
descent, although the pace would be much swifter.
With a sigh I turned the prow of my craft down stream, and with
mighty strokes hastened with reckless speed through the dark and
tortuous channel until once again I came to the chamber into which
flowed the three branches of the river.
Two unexplored channels still remained from which to choose; nor
was there any means by which I could judge which was the more likely
to lead me to the plotters.
Never in my life, that I can recall, have I suffered such an agony
of indecision. So much depended upon a correct choice; so much
depended upon haste.
The hours that I had already lost might seal the fate of the
incomparable Dejah Thoris were she not already dead--to sacrifice
other hours, and maybe days in a fruitless exploration of another
blind lead would unquestionably prove fatal.
Several times I essayed the right-hand entrance only to turn back
as though warned by some strange intuitive sense that this was not
the way. At last, convinced by the oft-recurring phenomenon, I
cast my all upon the left-hand archway; yet it was with a lingering
doubt that I turned a parting look at the sullen waters which
rolled, dark and forbidding, from beneath the grim, low archway on
the right.
And as I looked there came bobbing out upon the current from the
Stygian darkness of the interior the shell of one of the great,
succulent fruits of the sorapus tree.
I could scarce restrain a shout of elation as this silent, insensate
messenger floated past me, on toward the Iss and Korus, for it told
me that journeying Martians were above me on that very stream.
They had eaten of this marvelous fruit which nature concentrates
within the hard shell of the sorapus nut, and having eaten had
cast the husk overboard. It could have come from no others than
the party I sought.
Quickly I abandoned all thought of the left-hand passage, and a
moment later had turned into the right. The stream soon widened,
and recurring areas of phosphorescent rock lighted my way.
I made good time, but was convinced that I was nearly a day behind
those I was tracking. Neither Woola nor I had eaten since the
previous day, but in so far as he was concerned it mattered but
little, since practically all the animals of the dead sea bottoms
of Mars are able to go for incredible periods without nourishment.
Nor did I suffer. The water of the river was sweet and cold, for
it was unpolluted by decaying bodies--like the Iss--and as for
food, why the mere thought that I was nearing my beloved princess
raised me above every material want.
As I proceeded, the river became narrower and the current swift
and turbulent--so swift in fact that it was with difficulty that
I forced my craft upward at all. I could not have been making to
exceed a hundred yards an hour when, at a bend, I was confronted
by a series of rapids through which the river foamed and boiled at
a terrific rate.
My heart sank within me. The sorapus nutshell had proved a false
prophet, and, after all, my intuition had been correct--it was the
left-hand channel that I should have followed.
Had I been a woman I should have wept. At my right was a great,
slow-moving eddy that circled far beneath the cliff's overhanging
side, and to rest my tired muscles before turning back I let my
boat drift into its embrace.
I was almost prostrated by disappointment. It would mean another
half-day's loss of time to retrace my way and take the only passage
that yet remained unexplored. What hellish fate had led me to
select from three possible avenues the two that were wrong?
As the lazy current of the eddy carried me slowly about the periphery
of the watery circle my boat twice touched the rocky side of the
river in the dark recess beneath the cliff. A third time it struck,
gently as it had before, but the contact resulted in a different
sound--the sound of wood scraping upon wood.
In an instant I was on the alert, for there could be no wood
within that buried river that had not been man brought. Almost
coincidentally with my first apprehension of the noise, my hand shot
out across the boat's side, and a second later I felt my fingers
gripping the gunwale of another craft.
As though turned to stone I sat in tense and rigid silence, straining
my eyes into the utter darkness before me in an effort to discover
if the boat were occupied.
It was entirely possible that there might be men on board it
who were still ignorant of my presence, for the boat was scraping
gently against the rocks upon one side, so that the gentle touch
of my boat upon the other easily could have gone unnoticed.
Peer as I would I could not penetrate the darkness, and then I
listened intently for the sound of breathing near me; but except
for the noise of the rapids, the soft scraping of the boats, and the
lapping of the water at their sides I could distinguish no sound.
As usual, I thought rapidly.
A rope lay coiled in the bottom of my own craft. Very softly I
gathered it up, and making one end fast to the bronze ring in the
prow I stepped gingerly into the boat beside me. In one hand I
grasped the rope, in the other my keen long-sword.
For a full minute, perhaps, I stood motionless after entering the
strange craft. It had rocked a trifle beneath my weight, but it
had been the scraping of its side against the side of my own boat
that had seemed most likely to alarm its occupants, if there were
any.
But there was no answering sound, and a moment later I had felt
from stem to stern and found the boat deserted.
Groping with my hands along the face of the rocks to which the
craft was moored, I discovered a narrow ledge which I knew must be
the avenue taken by those who had come before me. That they could
be none other than Thurid and his party I was convinced by the size
and build of the boat I had found.
Calling to Woola to follow me I stepped out upon the ledge. The
great, savage brute, agile as a cat, crept after me.
As he passed through the boat that had been occupied by Thurid and
the therns he emitted a single low growl, and when he came beside
me upon the ledge and my hand rested upon his neck I felt his short
mane bristling with anger. I think he sensed telepathically the
recent presence of an enemy, for I had made no effort to impart to
him the nature of our quest or the status of those we tracked.
This omission I now made haste to correct, and, after the manner
of green Martians with their beasts, I let him know partially by
the weird and uncanny telepathy of Barsoom and partly by word of
mouth that we were upon the trail of those who had recently occupied
the boat through which we had just passed.
A soft purr, like that of a great cat, indicated that Woola
understood, and then, with a word to him to follow, I turned to
the right along the ledge, but scarcely had I done so than I felt
his mighty fangs tugging at my leathern harness.
As I turned to discover the cause of his act he continued to pull
me steadily in the opposite direction, nor would he desist until
I had turned about and indicated that I would follow him voluntarily.
Never had I known him to be in error in a matter of tracking, so
it was with a feeling of entire security that I moved cautiously in
the huge beast's wake. Through Cimmerian darkness he moved along
the narrow ledge beside the boiling rapids.
As we advanced, the way led from beneath the overhanging cliffs
out into a dim light, and then it was that I saw that the trail
had been cut from the living rock, and that it ran up along the
river's side beyond the rapids.
For hours we followed the dark and gloomy river farther and farther
into the bowels of Mars. From the direction and distance I knew
that we must be well beneath the Valley Dor, and possibly beneath
the Sea of Omean as well--it could not be much farther now to the
Temple of the Sun.
Even as my mind framed the thought, Woola halted suddenly before a
narrow, arched doorway in the cliff by the trail's side. Quickly
he crouched back away from the entrance, at the same time turning
his eyes toward me.
Words could not have more plainly told me that danger of some sort
lay near by, and so I pressed quietly forward to his side, and
passing him looked into the aperture at our right.
Before me was a fair-sized chamber that, from its appointments, I
knew must have at one time been a guardroom. There were racks for
weapons, and slightly raised platforms for the sleeping silks and
furs of the warriors, but now its only occupants were two of the
therns who had been of the party with Thurid and Matai Shang.
The men were in earnest conversation, and from their tones it was
apparent that they were entirely unaware that they had listeners.
"I tell you," one of them was saying, "I do not trust the black
one. There was no necessity for leaving us here to guard the way.
Against what, pray, should we guard this long-forgotten, abysmal
path? It was but a ruse to divide our numbers.
"He will have Matai Shang leave others elsewhere on some pretext or
other, and then at last he will fall upon us with his confederates
and slay us all."
"I believe you, Lakor," replied the other, "there can never be
aught else than deadly hatred between thern and First Born. And
what think you of the ridiculous matter of the light? `Let the
light shine with the intensity of three radium units for fifty
tals, and for one xat let it shine with the intensity of one radium
unit, and then for twenty-five tals with nine units.' Those were
his very words, and to think that wise old Matai Shang should listen
to such foolishness."
"Indeed, it is silly," replied Lakor. "It will open nothing other
than the way to a quick death for us all. He had to make some
answer when Matai Shang asked him flatly what he should do when he
came to the Temple of the Sun, and so he made his answer quickly
from his imagination--I would wager a hekkador's diadem that he
could not now repeat it himself."
"Let us not remain here longer, Lakor," spoke the other thern.
"Perchance if we hasten after them we may come in time to rescue
Matai Shang, and wreak our own vengeance upon the black dator.
What say you?"
"Never in a long life," answered Lakor, "have I disobeyed a single
command of the Father of Therns. I shall stay here until I rot if
he does not return to bid me elsewhere."
Lakor's companion shook his head.
"You are my superior," he said; "I cannot do other than you sanction,
though I still believe that we are foolish to remain."
I, too, thought that they were foolish to remain, for I saw from
Woola's actions that the trail led through the room where the two
therns held guard. I had no reason to harbor any considerable love
for this race of self-deified demons, yet I would have passed them
by were it possible without molesting them.
It was worth trying anyway, for a fight might delay us considerably,
or even put an end entirely to my search--better men than I have
gone down before fighters of meaner ability than that possessed by
the fierce thern warriors.
Signaling Woola to heel I stepped suddenly into the room before the
two men. At sight of me their long-swords flashed from the harness
at their sides, but I raised my hand in a gesture of restraint.
"I seek Thurid, the black dator," I said. "My quarrel is with him,
not with you. Let me pass then in peace, for if I mistake not he
is as much your enemy as mine, and you can have no cause to protect
him."
They lowered their swords and Lakor spoke.
"I know not whom you may be, with the white skin of a thern and
the black hair of a red man; but were it only Thurid whose safety
were at stake you might pass, and welcome, in so far as we be
concerned.
"Tell us who you be, and what mission calls you to this unknown
world beneath the Valley Dor, then maybe we can see our way to let
you pass upon the errand which we should like to undertake would
our orders permit."
I was surprised that neither of them had recognized me, for I
thought that I was quite sufficiently well known either by personal
experience or reputation to every thern upon Barsoom as to make my
identity immediately apparent in any part of the planet. In fact,
I was the only white man upon Mars whose hair was black and whose
eyes were gray, with the exception of my son, Carthoris.
To reveal my identity might be to precipitate an attack, for every
thern upon Barsoom knew that to me they owed the fall of their
age-old spiritual supremacy. On the other hand my reputation as
a fighting man might be sufficient to pass me by these two were
their livers not of the right complexion to welcome a battle to
the death.
To be quite candid I did not attempt to delude myself with any such
sophistry, since I knew well that upon war-like Mars there are few
cowards, and that every man, whether prince, priest, or peasant,
glories in deadly strife. And so I gripped my long-sword the
tighter as I replied to Lakor.
"I believe that you will see the wisdom of permitting me to pass
unmolested," I said, "for it would avail you nothing to die uselessly
in the rocky bowels of Barsoom merely to protect a hereditary enemy,
such as Thurid, Dator of the First Born.
"That you shall die should you elect to oppose me is evidenced by
the moldering corpses of all the many great Barsoomian warriors
who have gone down beneath this blade--I am John Carter, Prince of
Helium."
For a moment that name seemed to paralyze the two men; but only
for a moment, and then the younger of them, with a vile name upon
his lips, rushed toward me with ready sword.
He had been standing a little behind his companion, Lakor, during
our parley, and now, ere he could engage me, the older man grasped
his harness and drew him back.
"Hold!" commanded Lakor. "There will be plenty of time to fight if
we find it wise to fight at all. There be good reasons why every
thern upon Barsoom should yearn to spill the blood of the blasphemer,
the sacrilegist; but let us mix wisdom with our righteous hate.
The Prince of Helium is bound upon an errand which we ourselves,
but a moment since, were wishing that we might undertake.
"Let him go then and slay the black. When he returns we shall still
be here to bar his way to the outer world, and thus we shall have
rid ourselves of two enemies, nor have incurred the displeasure of
the Father of Therns."
As he spoke I could not but note the crafty glint in his evil
eyes, and while I saw the apparent logic of his reasoning I felt,
subconsciously perhaps, that his words did but veil some sinister
intent. The other thern turned toward him in evident surprise, but
when Lakor had whispered a few brief words into his ear he, too,
drew back and nodded acquiescence to his superior's suggestion.
"Proceed, John Carter," said Lakor; "but know that if Thurid does
not lay you low there will be those awaiting your return who will
see that you never pass again into the sunlight of the upper world.
Go!"
During our conversation Woola had been growling and bristling
close to my side. Occasionally he would look up into my face with
a low, pleading whine, as though begging for the word that would
send him headlong at the bare throats before him. He, too, sensed
the villainy behind the smooth words.
Beyond the therns several doorways opened off the guardroom, and
toward the one upon the extreme right Lakor motioned.
"That way leads to Thurid," he said.
But when I would have called Woola to follow me there the beast
whined and held back, and at last ran quickly to the first opening
at the left, where he stood emitting his coughing bark, as though
urging me to follow him upon the right way.
I turned a questioning look upon Lakor.
"The brute is seldom wrong," I said, "and while I do not doubt your
superior knowledge, Thern, I think that I shall do well to listen
to the voice of instinct that is backed by love and loyalty."
As I spoke I smiled grimly that he might know without words that
I distrusted him.
"As you will," the fellow replied with a shrug. "In the end it
shall be all the same."
I turned and followed Woola into the left-hand passage, and though
my back was toward my enemies, my ears were on the alert; yet
I heard no sound of pursuit. The passageway was dimly lighted by
occasional radium bulbs, the universal lighting medium of Barsoom.
These same lamps may have been doing continuous duty in these
subterranean chambers for ages, since they require no attention
and are so compounded that they give off but the minutest of their
substance in the generation of years of luminosity.
We had proceeded for but a short distance when we commenced to pass
the mouths of diverging corridors, but not once did Woola hesitate.
It was at the opening to one of these corridors upon my right that
I presently heard a sound that spoke more plainly to John Carter,
fighting man, than could the words of my mother tongue--it was the
clank of metal--the metal of a warrior's harness--and it came from
a little distance up the corridor upon my right.
Woola heard it, too, and like a flash he had wheeled and stood
facing the threatened danger, his mane all abristle and all his
rows of glistening fangs bared by snarling, backdrawn lips. With
a gesture I silenced him, and together we drew aside into another
corridor a few paces farther on.
Here we waited; nor did we have long to wait, for presently we saw
the shadows of two men fall upon the floor of the main corridor
athwart the doorway of our hiding place. Very cautiously they
were moving now--the accidental clank that had alarmed me was not
repeated.
Presently they came opposite our station; nor was I surprised to
see that the two were Lakor and his companion of the guardroom.
They walked very softly, and in the right hand of each gleamed a
keen long-sword. They halted quite close to the entrance of our
retreat, whispering to each other.
"Can it be that we have distanced them already?" said Lakor.
"Either that or the beast has led the man upon a wrong trail,"
replied the other, "for the way which we took is by far the shorter
to this point--for him who knows it. John Carter would have found
it a short road to death had he taken it as you suggested to him."
"Yes," said Lakor, "no amount of fighting ability would have saved
him from the pivoted flagstone. He surely would have stepped upon
it, and by now, if the pit beneath it has a bottom, which Thurid
denies, he should have been rapidly approaching it. Curses on that
calot of his that warned him toward the safer avenue!"
"There be other dangers ahead of him, though," spoke Lakor's fellow,
"which he may not so easily escape--should he succeed in escaping
our two good swords. Consider, for example, what chance he will
have, coming unexpectedly into the chamber of--"
I would have given much to have heard the balance of that conversation
that I might have been warned of the perils that lay ahead, but
fate intervened, and just at the very instant of all other instants
that I would not have elected to do it, I sneezed.
THE TEMPLE OF THE SUN
There was nothing for it now other than to fight; nor did I have
any advantage as I sprang, sword in hand, into the corridor before
the two therns, for my untimely sneeze had warned them of my presence
and they were ready for me.
There were no words, for they would have been a waste of breath.
The very presence of the two proclaimed their treachery. That
they were following to fall upon me unawares was all too plain,
and they, of course, must have known that I understood their plan.
In an instant I was engaged with both, and though I loathe the very
name of thern, I must in all fairness admit that they are mighty
swordsmen; and these two were no exception, unless it were that
they were even more skilled and fearless than the average among
their race.
While it lasted it was indeed as joyous a conflict as I ever had
experienced. Twice at least I saved my breast from the mortal
thrust of piercing steel only by the wondrous agility with which
my earthly muscles endow me under the conditions of lesser gravity
and air pressure upon Mars.
Yet even so I came near to tasting death that day in the gloomy
corridor beneath Mars's southern pole, for Lakor played a trick
upon me that in all my experience of fighting upon two planets I
never before had witnessed the like of.
The other thern was engaging me at the time, and I was forcing
him back--touching him here and there with my point until he was
bleeding from a dozen wounds, yet not being able to penetrate his
marvelous guard to reach a vulnerable spot for the brief instant
that would have been sufficient to send him to his ancestors.
It was then that Lakor quickly unslung a belt from his harness,
and as I stepped back to parry a wicked thrust he lashed one end
of it about my left ankle so that it wound there for an instant,
while he jerked suddenly upon the other end, throwing me heavily
upon my back.
Then, like leaping panthers, they were upon me; but they
had reckoned without Woola, and before ever a blade touched me, a
roaring embodiment of a thousand demons hurtled above my prostrate
form and my loyal Martian calot was upon them.
Imagine, if you can, a huge grizzly with ten legs armed with mighty
talons and an enormous froglike mouth splitting his head from ear
to ear, exposing three rows of long, white tusks. Then endow this
creature of your imagination with the agility and ferocity of a
half-starved Bengal tiger and the strength of a span of bulls, and
you will have some faint conception of Woola in action.
Before I could call him off he had crushed Lakor into a jelly with
a single blow of one mighty paw, and had literally torn the other
thern to ribbons; yet when I spoke to him sharply he cowed sheepishly
as though he had done a thing to deserve censure and chastisement.
Never had I had the heart to punish Woola during the long years
that had passed since that first day upon Mars when the green jed
of the Tharks had placed him on guard over me, and I had won his
love and loyalty from the cruel and loveless masters of his former
life, yet I believe he would have submitted to any cruelty that I
might have inflicted upon him, so wondrous was his affection for
me.
The diadem in the center of the circlet of gold upon the brow of
Lakor proclaimed him a Holy Thern, while his companion, not thus
adorned, was a lesser thern, though from his harness I gleaned that
he had reached the Ninth Cycle, which is but one below that of the
Holy Therns.
As I stood for a moment looking at the gruesome havoc Woola had
wrought, there recurred to me the memory of that other occasion
upon which I had masqueraded in the wig, diadem, and harness of
Sator Throg, the Holy Thern whom Thuvia of Ptarth had slain, and now
it occurred to me that it might prove of worth to utilize Lakor's
trappings for the same purpose.
A moment later I had torn his yellow wig from his bald pate and
transferred it and the circlet, as well as all his harness, to my
own person.
Woola did not approve of the metamorphosis. He sniffed at me and
growled ominously, but when I spoke to him and patted his huge head
he at length became reconciled to the change, and at my command
trotted off along the corridor in the direction we had been going
when our progress had been interrupted by the therns.
We moved cautiously now, warned by the fragment of conversation
I had overheard. I kept abreast of Woola that we might have the
benefit of all our eyes for what might appear suddenly ahead to
menace us, and well it was that we were forewarned.
At the bottom of a flight of narrow steps the corridor turned sharply
back upon itself, immediately making another turn in the original
direction, so that at that point it formed a perfect letter S,
the top leg of which debouched suddenly into a large chamber, illy
lighted, and the floor of which was completely covered by venomous
snakes and loathsome reptiles.
To have attempted to cross that floor would have been to court
instant death, and for a moment I was almost completely discouraged.
Then it occurred to me that Thurid and Matai Shang with their party
must have crossed it, and so there was a way.
Had it not been for the fortunate accident by which I overheard
even so small a portion of the therns' conversation we should
have blundered at least a step or two into that wriggling mass of
destruction, and a single step would have been all-sufficient to
have sealed our doom.
These were the only reptiles I had ever seen upon Barsoom, but I
knew from their similarity to the fossilized remains of supposedly
extinct species I had seen in the museums of Helium that they
comprised many of the known prehistoric reptilian genera, as well
as others undiscovered.
A more hideous aggregation of monsters had never before assailed my
vision. It would be futile to attempt to describe them to Earth
men, since substance is the only thing which they possess in
common with any creature of the past or present with which you are
familiar--even their venom is of an unearthly virulence that, by
comparison, would make the cobra de capello seem quite as harmless
as an angleworm.
As they spied me there was a concerted rush by those nearest the
entrance where we stood, but a line of radium bulbs inset along the
threshold of their chamber brought them to a sudden halt--evidently
they dared not cross that line of light.
I had been quite sure that they would not venture beyond the room
in which I had discovered them, though I had not guessed at what
deterred them. The simple fact that we had found no reptiles in
the corridor through which we had just come was sufficient assurance
that they did not venture there.
I drew Woola out of harm's way, and then began a careful survey
of as much of the Chamber of Reptiles as I could see from where
I stood. As my eyes became accustomed to the dim light of its
interior I gradually made out a low gallery at the far end of the
apartment from which opened several exits.
Coming as close to the threshold as I dared, I followed this
gallery with my eyes, discovering that it circled the room as far
as I could see. Then I glanced above me along the upper edge of
the entrance to which we had come, and there, to my delight, I saw
an end of the gallery not a foot above my head. In an instant I
had leaped to it and called Woola after me.
Here there were no reptiles--the way was clear to the opposite side
of the hideous chamber--and a moment later Woola and I dropped down
to safety in the corridor beyond.
Not ten minutes later we came into a vast circular apartment
of white marble, the walls of which were inlaid with gold in the
strange hieroglyphics of the First Born.
From the high dome of this mighty apartment a huge circular column
extended to the floor, and as I watched I saw that it slowly
revolved.
I had reached the base of the Temple of the Sun!
Somewhere above me lay Dejah Thoris, and with her were Phaidor,
daughter of Matai Shang, and Thuvia of Ptarth. But how to reach
them, now that I had found the only vulnerable spot in their mighty
prison, was still a baffling riddle.
Slowly I circled the great shaft, looking for a means of ingress.
Part way around I found a tiny radium flash torch, and as I examined
it in mild curiosity as to its presence there in this almost
inaccessible and unknown spot, I came suddenly upon the insignia
of the house of Thurid jewel-inset in its metal case.
I am upon the right trail, I thought, as I slipped the bauble into
the pocket-pouch which hung from my harness. Then I continued
my search for the entrance, which I knew must be somewhere about;
nor had I long to search, for almost immediately thereafter I came
upon a small door so cunningly inlaid in the shaft's base that it
might have passed unnoticed by a less keen or careful observer.
There was the door that would lead me within the prison, but where
was the means to open it? No button or lock were visible. Again
and again I went carefully over every square inch of its surface,
but the most that I could find was a tiny pinhole a little above
and to the right of the door's center--a pinhole that seemed only
an accident of manufacture or an imperfection of material.
Into this minute aperture I attempted to peer, but whether it was
but a fraction of an inch deep or passed completely through the door
I could not tell--at least no light showed beyond it. I put my ear
to it next and listened, but again my efforts brought negligible
results.
During these experiments Woola had been standing at my side gazing
intently at the door, and as my glance fell upon him it occurred
to me to test the correctness of my hypothesis, that this portal
had been the means of ingress to the temple used by Thurid, the
black dator, and Matai Shang, Father of Therns.
Turning away abruptly, I called to him to follow me. For a moment
he hesitated, and then leaped after me, whining and tugging at my
harness to draw me back. I walked on, however, some distance from
the door before I let him have his way, that I might see precisely
what he would do. Then I permitted him to lead me wherever he
would.
Straight back to that baffling portal he dragged me, again taking
up his position facing the blank stone, gazing straight at its
shining surface. For an hour I worked to solve the mystery of the
combination that would open the way before me.
Carefully I recalled every circumstance of my pursuit of Thurid,
and my conclusion was identical with my original belief--that Thurid
had come this way without other assistance than his own knowledge
and passed through the door that barred my progress, unaided from
within. But how had he accomplished it?
I recalled the incident of the Chamber of Mystery in the Golden
Cliffs that time I had freed Thuvia of Ptarth from the dungeon of
the therns, and she had taken a slender, needle-like key from the
keyring of her dead jailer to open the door leading back into the
Chamber of Mystery where Tars Tarkas fought for his life with the
great banths. Such a tiny keyhole as now defied me had opened the
way to the intricate lock in that other door.
Hastily I dumped the contents of my pocket-pouch upon the ground
before me. Could I but find a slender bit of steel I might yet
fashion a key that would give me ingress to the temple prison.
As I examined the heterogeneous collection of odds and ends that
is always to be found in the pocket-pouch of a Martian warrior my
hand fell upon the emblazoned radium flash torch of the black dator.
As I was about to lay the thing aside as of no value in my present
predicament my eyes chanced upon a few strange characters roughly
and freshly scratched upon the soft gold of the case.
Casual curiosity prompted me to decipher them, but what I read
carried no immediate meaning to my mind. There were three sets of
characters, one below another:
3 |--| 50 T
1 |--| 1 X
9 |--| 25 T
For only an instant my curiosity was piqued, and then I replaced
the torch in my pocket-pouch, but my fingers had not unclasped
from it when there rushed to my memory the recollection of the
conversation between Lakor and his companion when the lesser thern
had quoted the words of Thurid and scoffed at them: "And what
think you of the ridiculous matter of the light? Let the light
shine with the intensity of three radium units for fifty tals"--ah,
there was the first line of characters upon the torch's metal
case--3--50 T; "and for one xat let it shine with the intensity
of one radium unit"--there was the second line; "and then for
twenty-five tals with nine units."
The formula was complete; but--what did it mean?
I thought I knew, and, seizing a powerful magnifying glass from the
litter of my pocket-pouch, I applied myself to a careful examination
of the marble immediately about the pinhole in the door. I could
have cried aloud in exultation when my scrutiny disclosed the almost
invisible incrustation of particles of carbonized electrons which
are thrown off by these Martian torches.
It was evident that for countless ages radium torches had been
applied to this pinhole, and for what purpose there could be but
a single answer--the mechanism of the lock was actuated by light
rays; and I, John Carter, Prince of Helium, held the combination
in my hand--scratched by the hand of my enemy upon his own torch
case.
In a cylindrical bracelet of gold about my wrist was my Barsoomian
chronometer--a delicate instrument that records the tals and xats
and zodes of Martian time, presenting them to view beneath a strong
crystal much after the manner of an earthly odometer.
Timing my operations carefully, I held the torch to the small aperture
in the door, regulating the intensity of the light by means of the
thumb-lever upon the side of the case.
For fifty tals I let three units of light shine full in the pinhole,
then one unit for one xat, and for twenty-five tals nine units.
Those last twenty-five tals were the longest twenty-five seconds
of my life. Would the lock click at the end of those seemingly
interminable intervals of time?
Twenty-three! Twenty-four! Twenty-five!
I shut off the light with a snap. For seven tals I waited--there
had been no appreciable effect upon the lock's mechanism. Could
it be that my theory was entirely wrong?
Hold! Had the nervous strain resulted in a hallucination, or did
the door really move? Slowly the solid stone sank noiselessly back
into the wall--there was no hallucination here.
Back and back it slid for ten feet until it had disclosed at its
right a narrow doorway leading into a dark and narrow corridor that
paralleled the outer wall. Scarcely was the entrance uncovered
than Woola and I had leaped through--then the door slipped quietly
back into place.
Down the corridor at some distance I saw the faint reflection of
a light, and toward this we made our way. At the point where the
light shone was a sharp turn, and a little distance beyond this a
brilliantly lighted chamber.
Here we discovered a spiral stairway leading up from the center of
the circular room.
Immediately I knew that we had reached the center of the base of
the Temple of the Sun--the spiral runway led upward past the inner
walls of the prison cells. Somewhere above me was Dejah Thoris,
unless Thurid and Matai Shang had already succeeded in stealing
her.
We had scarcely started up the runway when Woola suddenly displayed
the wildest excitement. He leaped back and forth, snapping at my
legs and harness, until I thought that he was mad, and finally when
I pushed him from me and started once more to ascend he grasped my
sword arm between his jaws and dragged me back.
No amount of scolding or cuffing would suffice to make him release
me, and I was entirely at the mercy of his brute strength unless
I cared to use my dagger upon him with my left hand; but, mad or
no, I had not the heart to run the sharp blade into that faithful
body.
Down into the chamber he dragged me, and across it to the side
opposite that at which we had entered. Here was another doorway
leading into a corridor which ran directly down a steep incline.
Without a moment's hesitation Woola jerked me along this rocky
passage.
Presently he stopped and released me, standing between me and the
way we had come, looking up into my face as though to ask if I would
now follow him voluntarily or if he must still resort to force.
Looking ruefully at the marks of his great teeth upon my bare arm
I decided to do as he seemed to wish me to do. After all, his strange
instinct might be more dependable than my faulty human judgment.
And well it was that I had been forced to follow him. But a
short distance from the circular chamber we came suddenly into a
brilliantly lighted labyrinth of crystal glass partitioned passages.
At first I thought it was one vast, unbroken chamber, so clear and
transparent were the walls of the winding corridors, but after I
had nearly brained myself a couple of times by attempting to pass
through solid vitreous walls I went more carefully.
We had proceeded but a few yards along the corridor that had given
us entrance to this strange maze when Woola gave mouth to a most
frightful roar, at the same time dashing against the clear partition
at our left.
The resounding echoes of that fearsome cry were still reverberating
through the subterranean chambers when I saw the thing that had
startled it from the faithful beast.
Far in the distance, dimly through the many thicknesses of intervening
crystal, as in a haze that made them seem unreal and ghostly, I
discerned the figures of eight people--three females and five men.
At the same instant, evidently startled by Woola's fierce cry, they
halted and looked about. Then, of a sudden, one of them, a woman,
held her arms out toward me, and even at that great distance I could
see that her lips moved--it was Dejah Thoris, my ever beautiful
and ever youthful Princess of Helium.
With her were Thuvia of Ptarth, Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang,
and Thurid, and the Father of Therns, and the three lesser therns
that had accompanied them.
Thurid shook his fist at me, and then two of the therns grasped
Dejah Thoris and Thuvia roughly by their arms and hurried them on.
A moment later they had disappeared into a stone corridor beyond
the labyrinth of glass.
They say that love is blind; but so great a love as that of Dejah
Thoris that knew me even beneath the thern disguise I wore and across
the misty vista of that crystal maze must indeed be far from blind.
THE SECRET TOWER
I have no stomach to narrate the monotonous events of the tedious
days that Woola and I spent ferreting our way across the labyrinth
of glass, through the dark and devious ways beyond that led beneath
the Valley Dor and Golden Cliffs to emerge at last upon the flank
of the Otz Mountains just above the Valley of Lost Souls--that
pitiful purgatory peopled by the poor unfortunates who dare not
continue their abandoned pilgrimage to Dor, or return to the various
lands of the outer world from whence they came.
Here the trail of Dejah Thoris' abductors led along the mountains'
base, across steep and rugged ravines, by the side of appalling
precipices, and sometimes out into the valley, where we found
fighting aplenty with the members of the various tribes that make
up the population of this vale of hopelessness.
But through it all we came at last to where the way led up a narrow
gorge that grew steeper and more impracticable at every step until
before us loomed a mighty fortress buried beneath the side of an
overhanging cliff.
Here was the secret hiding place of Matai Shang, Father of Therns.
Here, surrounded by a handful of the faithful, the hekkador of
the ancient faith, who had once been served by millions of vassals
and dependents, dispensed the spiritual words among the half dozen
nations of Barsoom that still clung tenaciously to their false and
discredited religion.
Darkness was just falling as we came in sight of the seemingly
impregnable walls of this mountain stronghold, and lest we be seen
I drew back with Woola behind a jutting granite promontory, into
a clump of the hardy, purple scrub that thrives upon the barren
sides of Otz.
Here we lay until the quick transition from daylight to darkness
had passed. Then I crept out to approach the fortress walls in
search of a way within.
Either through carelessness or over-confidence in the supposed
inaccessibility of their hiding place, the triple-barred gate stood
ajar. Beyond were a handful of guards, laughing and talking over
one of their incomprehensible Barsoomian games.
I saw that none of the guardsmen had been of the party that
accompanied Thurid and Matai Shang; and so, relying entirely upon
my disguise, I walked boldly through the gateway and up to the
thern guard.
The men stopped their game and looked up at me, but there was no
sign of suspicion. Similarly they looked at Woola, growling at my
heel.
"Kaor!" I said in true Martian greeting, and the warriors arose and
saluted me. "I have but just found my way hither from the Golden
Cliffs," I continued, "and seek audience with the hekkador, Matai
Shang, Father of Therns. Where may he be found?"
"Follow me," said one of the guard, and, turning, led me across
the outer courtyard toward a second buttressed wall.
Why the apparent ease with which I seemingly deceived them did
not rouse my suspicions I know not, unless it was that my mind was
still so full of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved princess that
there was room in it for naught else. Be that as it may, the fact
is that I marched buoyantly behind my guide straight into the jaws
of death.
Afterward I learned that thern spies had been aware of my coming
for hours before I reached the hidden fortress.
The gate had been purposely left ajar to tempt me on. The guards
had been schooled well in their part of the conspiracy; and I,
more like a schoolboy than a seasoned warrior, ran headlong into
the trap.
At the far side of the outer court a narrow door let into the
angle made by one of the buttresses with the wall. Here my guide
produced a key and opened the way within; then, stepping back, he
motioned me to enter.
"Matai Shang is in the temple court beyond," he said; and as Woola
and I passed through, the fellow closed the door quickly upon us.
The nasty laugh that came to my ears through the heavy planking of
the door after the lock clicked was my first intimation that all
was not as it should be.
I found myself in a small, circular chamber within the buttress.
Before me a door opened, presumably, upon the inner court beyond.
For a moment I hesitated, all my suspicions now suddenly, though
tardily, aroused; then, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened the
door and stepped out into the glare of torches that lighted the
inner court.
Directly opposite me a massive tower rose to a height of three
hundred feet. It was of the strangely beautiful modern Barsoomian
style of architecture, its entire surface hand carved in bold
relief with intricate and fanciful designs. Thirty feet above
the courtyard and overlooking it was a broad balcony, and there,
indeed, was Matai Shang, and with him were Thurid and Phaidor,
Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris--the last two heavily ironed. A handful
of thern warriors stood just behind the little party.
As I entered the enclosure the eyes of those in the balcony were
full upon me.
An ugly smile distorted the cruel lips of Matai Shang. Thurid
hurled a taunt at me and placed a familiar hand upon the shoulder
of my princess. Like a tigress she turned upon him, striking the
beast a heavy blow with the manacles upon her wrist.
He would have struck back had not Matai Shang interfered, and then
I saw that the two men were not over-friendly; for the manner of
the thern was arrogant and domineering as he made it plain to the
First Born that the Princess of Helium was the personal property
of the Father of Therns. And Thurid's bearing toward the ancient
hekkador savored not at all of liking or respect.
When the altercation in the balcony had subsided Matai Shang turned
again to me.
"Earth man," he cried, "you have earned a more ignoble death than
now lies within our weakened power to inflict upon you; but that the
death you die tonight may be doubly bitter, know you that when you
have passed, your widow becomes the wife of Matai Shang, Hekkador
of the Holy Therns, for a Martian year.
"At the end of that time, as you know, she shall be discarded,
as is the law among us, but not, as is usual, to lead a quiet and
honored life as high priestess of some hallowed shrine. Instead,
Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, shall become the plaything of
my lieutenants--perhaps of thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the black
dator."
As he ceased speaking he awaited in silence evidently for some
outbreak of rage upon my part--something that would have added to
the spice of his revenge. But I did not give him the satisfaction
that he craved.
Instead, I did the one thing of all others that might rouse his
anger and increase his hatred of me; for I knew that if I died
Dejah Thoris, too, would find a way to die before they could heap
further tortures or indignities upon her.
Of all the holy of holies which the thern venerates and worships
none is more revered than the yellow wig which covers his bald pate,
and next thereto comes the circlet of gold and the great diadem,
whose scintillant rays mark the attainment of the Tenth Cycle.
And, knowing this, I removed the wig and circlet from my head,
tossing them carelessly upon the flagging of the court. Then I
wiped my feet upon the yellow tresses; and as a groan of rage arose
from the balcony I spat full upon the holy diadem.
Matai Shang went livid with anger, but upon the lips of Thurid I
could see a grim smile of amusement, for to him these things were
not holy; so, lest he should derive too much amusement from my
act, I cried: "And thus did I with the holies of Issus, Goddess
of Life Eternal, ere I threw Issus herself to the mob that once
had worshiped her, to be torn to pieces in her own temple."
That put an end to Thurid's grinning, for he had been high in the
favor of Issus.
"Let us have an end to this blaspheming!" he cried, turning to the
Father of Therns.
Matai Shang rose and, leaning over the edge of the balcony, gave
voice to the weird call that I had heard from the lips of the
priests upon the tiny balcony upon the face of the Golden Cliffs
overlooking the Valley Dor, when, in times past, they called
the fearsome white apes and the hideous plant men to the feast of
victims floating down the broad bosom of the mysterious Iss toward
the silian-infested waters of the Lost Sea of Korus. "Let loose
the death!" he cried, and immediately a dozen doors in the base of
the tower swung open, and a dozen grim and terrible banths sprang
into the arena.
This was not the first time that I had faced the ferocious Barsoomian
lion, but never had I been pitted, single-handed, against a full
dozen of them. Even with the assistance of the fierce Woola, there
could be but a single outcome to so unequal a struggle.
For a moment the beasts hesitated beneath the brilliant glare
of the torches; but presently their eyes, becoming accustomed to
the light, fell upon Woola and me, and with bristling manes and
deep-throated roars they advanced, lashing their tawny sides with
their powerful tails.
In the brief interval of life that was left me I shot a last,
parting glance toward my Dejah Thoris. Her beautiful face was set
in an expression of horror; and as my eyes met hers she extended
both arms toward me as, struggling with the guards who now held
her, she endeavored to cast herself from the balcony into the pit
beneath, that she might share my death with me. Then, as the banths
were about to close upon me, she turned and buried her dear face
in her arms.
Suddenly my attention was drawn toward Thuvia of Ptarth. The
beautiful girl was leaning far over the edge of the balcony, her
eyes bright with excitement.
In another instant the banths would be upon me, but I could not
force my gaze from the features of the red girl, for I knew that
her expression meant anything but the enjoyment of the grim tragedy
that would so soon be enacted below her; there was some deeper,
hidden meaning which I sought to solve.
For an instant I thought of relying on my earthly muscles and
agility to escape the banths and reach the balcony, which I could
easily have done, but I could not bring myself to desert the
faithful Woola and leave him to die alone beneath the cruel fangs
of the hungry banths; that is not the way upon Barsoom, nor was it
ever the way of John Carter.
Then the secret of Thuvia's excitement became apparent as from her
lips there issued the purring sound I had heard once before; that
time that, within the Golden Cliffs, she called the fierce banths
about her and led them as a shepherdess might lead her flock of
meek and harmless sheep.
At the first note of that soothing sound the banths halted in their
tracks, and every fierce head went high as the beasts sought the
origin of the familiar call. Presently they discovered the red
girl in the balcony above them, and, turning, roared out their
recognition and their greeting.
Guards sprang to drag Thuvia away, but ere they had succeeded she
had hurled a volley of commands at the listening brutes, and as
one they turned and marched back into their dens.
"You need not fear them now, John Carter!" cried Thuvia, before
they could silence her. "Those banths will never harm you now,
nor Woola, either."
It was all I cared to know. There was naught to keep me from that
balcony now, and with a long, running leap I sprang far aloft until
my hands grasped its lowest sill.
In an instant all was wild confusion. Matai Shang shrank back.
Thurid sprang forward with drawn sword to cut me down.
Again Dejah Thoris wielded her heavy irons and fought him back.
Then Matai Shang grasped her about the waist and dragged her away
through a door leading within the tower.
For an instant Thurid hesitated, and then, as though fearing that
the Father of Therns would escape him with the Princess of Helium,
he, too, dashed from the balcony in their wake.
Phaidor alone retained her presence of mind. Two of the guards she
ordered to bear away Thuvia of Ptarth; the others she commanded to
remain and prevent me from following. Then she turned toward me.
"John Carter," she cried, "for the last time I offer you the love
of Phaidor, daughter of the Holy Hekkador. Accept and your princess
shall be returned to the court of her grandfather, and you shall
live in peace and happiness. Refuse and the fate that my father
has threatened shall fall upon Dejah Thoris.
"You cannot save her now, for by this time they have reached a
place where even you may not follow. Refuse and naught can save
you; for, though the way to the last stronghold of the Holy Therns
was made easy for you, the way hence hath been made impossible.
What say you?"
"You knew my answer, Phaidor," I replied, "before ever you spoke.
Make way," I cried to the guards, "for John Carter, Prince of
Helium, would pass!"
With that I leaped over the low baluster that surrounded the balcony,
and with drawn long-sword faced my enemies.
There were three of them; but Phaidor must have guessed what the
outcome of the battle would be, for she turned and fled from the
balcony the moment she saw that I would have none of her proposition.
The three guardsmen did not wait for my attack. Instead, they
rushed me--the three of them simultaneously; and it was that which
gave me an advantage, for they fouled one another in the narrow
precincts of the balcony, so that the foremost of them stumbled
full upon my blade at the first onslaught.
The red stain upon my point roused to its full the old blood-lust
of the fighting man that has ever been so strong within my breast,
so that my blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadly
accuracy that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.
When at last the sharp steel found the heart of one of them the
other turned to flee, and, guessing that his steps would lead him
along the way taken by those I sought, I let him keep ever far
enough ahead to think that he was safely escaping my sword.
Through several inner chambers he raced until he came to a spiral
runway. Up this he dashed, I in close pursuit. At the upper end
we came out into a small chamber, the walls of which were plank
except for a single window overlooking the slopes of Otz and the
Valley of Lost Souls beyond.
Here the fellow tore frantically at what appeared to be but a
piece of the blank wall opposite the single window. In an instant
I guessed that it was a secret exit from the room, and so I paused
that he might have an opportunity to negotiate it, for I cared
nothing to take the life of this poor servitor--all I craved was
a clear road in pursuit of Dejah Thoris, my long-lost princess.
But, try as he would, the panel would yield neither to cunning nor
force, so that eventually he gave it up and turned to face me.
"Go thy way, Thern," I said to him, pointing toward the entrance
to the runway up which we had but just come. "I have no quarrel
with you, nor do I crave your life. Go!"
For answer he sprang upon me with his sword, and so suddenly, at
that, that I was like to have gone down before his first rush. So
there was nothing for it but to give him what he sought, and that
as quickly as might be, that I might not be delayed too long in
this chamber while Matai Shang and Thurid made way with Dejah Thoris
and Thuvia of Ptarth.
The fellow was a clever swordsman--resourceful and extremely
tricky. In fact, he seemed never to have heard that there existed
such a thing as a code of honor, for he repeatedly outraged a dozen
Barsoomian fighting customs that an honorable man would rather die
than ignore.
He even went so far as to snatch his holy wig from his head and
throw it in my face, so as to blind me for a moment while he thrust
at my unprotected breast.
When he thrust, however, I was not there, for I had fought with
therns before; and while none had ever resorted to precisely that
same expedient, I knew them to be the least honorable and most
treacherous fighters upon Mars, and so was ever on the alert for
some new and devilish subterfuge when I was engaged with one of
their race.
But at length he overdid the thing; for, drawing his shortsword,
he hurled it, javelinwise, at my body, at the same instant rushing
upon me with his long-sword. A single sweeping circle of my own
blade caught the flying weapon and hurled it clattering against
the far wall, and then, as I sidestepped my antagonist's impetuous
rush, I let him have my point full in the stomach as he hurtled
by.
Clear to the hilt my weapon passed through his body, and with a
frightful shriek he sank to the floor, dead.
Halting only for the brief instant that was required to wrench
my sword from the carcass of my late antagonist, I sprang across
the chamber to the blank wall beyond, through which the thern had
attempted to pass. Here I sought for the secret of its lock, but
all to no avail.
In despair I tried to force the thing, but the cold, unyielding
stone might well have laughed at my futile, puny endeavors. In fact,
I could have sworn that I caught the faint suggestion of taunting
laughter from beyond the baffling panel.
In disgust I desisted from my useless efforts and stepped to the
chamber's single window.
The slopes of Otz and the distant Valley of Lost Souls held nothing
to compel my interest then; but, towering far above me, the tower's
carved wall riveted my keenest attention.
Somewhere within that massive pile was Dejah Thoris. Above me I
could see windows. There, possibly, lay the only way by which I
could reach her. The risk was great, but not too great when the
fate of a world's most wondrous woman was at stake.
I glanced below. A hundred feet beneath lay jagged granite boulders
at the brink of a frightful chasm upon which the tower abutted; and
if not upon the boulders, then at the chasm's bottom, lay death,
should a foot slip but once, or clutching fingers loose their hold
for the fraction of an instant.
But there was no other way and with a shrug, which I must admit
was half shudder, I stepped to the window's outer sill and began
my perilous ascent.
To my dismay I found that, unlike the ornamentation upon most
Heliumetic structures, the edges of the carvings were quite generally
rounded, so that at best my every hold was most precarious.
Fifty feet above me commenced a series of projecting cylindrical
stones some six inches in diameter. These apparently circled the
tower at six-foot intervals, in bands six feet apart; and as each
stone cylinder protruded some four or five inches beyond the surface
of the other ornamentation, they presented a comparatively easy
mode of ascent could I but reach them.
Laboriously I climbed toward them by way of some windows which
lay below them, for I hoped that I might find ingress to the tower
through one of these, and thence an easier avenue along which to
prosecute my search.
At times so slight was my hold upon the rounded surfaces of the
carving's edges that a sneeze, a cough, or even a slight gust of
wind would have dislodged me and sent me hurtling to the depths
below.
But finally I reached a point where my fingers could just clutch
the sill of the lowest window, and I was on the point of breathing
a sigh of relief when the sound of voices came to me from above
through the open window.
"He can never solve the secret of that lock." The voice was Matai
Shang's. "Let us proceed to the hangar above that we may be far
to the south before he finds another way--should that be possible."
"All things seem possible to that vile calot," replied another
voice, which I recognized as Thurid's.
"Then let us haste," said Matai Shang. "But to be doubly sure, I
will leave two who shall patrol this runway. Later they may follow
us upon another flier--overtaking us at Kaol."
My upstretched fingers never reached the window's sill. At the
first sound of the voices I drew back my hand and clung there to
my perilous perch, flattened against the perpendicular wall, scarce
daring to breathe.
What a horrible position, indeed, in which to be discovered by
Thurid! He had but to lean from the window to push me with his
sword's point into eternity.
Presently the sound of the voices became fainter, and once again
I took up my hazardous ascent, now more difficult, since more
circuitous, for I must climb so as to avoid the windows.
Matai Shang's reference to the hangar and the fliers indicated
that my destination lay nothing short of the roof of the tower,
and toward this seemingly distant goal I set my face.
The most difficult and dangerous part of the journey was accomplished
at last, and it was with relief that I felt my fingers close about
the lowest of the stone cylinders.
It is true that these projections were too far apart to make the
balance of the ascent anything of a sinecure, but I at least had
always within my reach a point of safety to which I might cling in
case of accident.
Some ten feet below the roof, the wall inclined slightly inward
possibly a foot in the last ten feet, and here the climbing was
indeed immeasurably easier, so that my fingers soon clutched the
eaves.
As I drew my eyes above the level of the tower's top I saw a flier
all but ready to rise.
Upon her deck were Matai Shang, Phaidor, Dejah Thoris, Thuvia of
Ptarth, and a few thern warriors, while near her was Thurid in the
act of clambering aboard.
He was not ten paces from me, facing in the opposite direction;
and what cruel freak of fate should have caused him to turn about
just as my eyes topped the roof's edge I may not even guess.
But turn he did; and when his eyes met mine his wicked face lighted
with a malignant smile as he leaped toward me, where I was hastening
to scramble to the secure footing of the roof.
Dejah Thoris must have seen me at the same instant, for she screamed
a useless warning just as Thurid's foot, swinging in a mighty kick,
landed full in my face.
Like a felled ox, I reeled and tumbled backward over the tower's
side.
ON THE KAOLIAN ROAD
If there be a fate that is sometimes cruel to me, there surely is
a kind and merciful Providence which watches over me.
As I toppled from the tower into the horrid abyss below I counted
myself already dead; and Thurid must have done likewise, for he
evidently did not even trouble himself to look after me, but must
have turned and mounted the waiting flier at once.
Ten feet only I fell, and then a loop of my tough, leathern harness
caught upon one of the cylindrical stone projections in the tower's
surface--and held. Even when I had ceased to fall I could not
believe the miracle that had preserved me from instant death, and
for a moment I hung there, cold sweat exuding from every pore of
my body.
But when at last I had worked myself back to a firm position
I hesitated to ascend, since I could not know that Thurid was not
still awaiting me above.
Presently, however, there came to my ears the whirring of the
propellers of a flier, and as each moment the sound grew fainter
I realized that the party had proceeded toward the south without
assuring themselves as to my fate.
Cautiously I retraced my way to the roof, and I must admit that
it was with no pleasant sensation that I raised my eyes once more
above its edge; but, to my relief, there was no one in sight, and
a moment later I stood safely upon its broad surface.
To reach the hangar and drag forth the only other flier which it
contained was the work of but an instant; and just as the two thern
warriors whom Matai Shang had left to prevent this very contingency
emerged upon the roof from the tower's interior, I rose above them
with a taunting laugh.
Then I dived rapidly to the inner court where I had last seen Woola,
and to my immense relief found the faithful beast still there.
The twelve great banths lay in the doorways of their lairs, eyeing
him and growling ominously, but they had not disobeyed Thuvia's
injunction; and I thanked the fate that had made her their keeper
within the Golden Cliffs, and endowed her with the kind and
sympathetic nature that had won the loyalty and affection of these
fierce beasts for her.
Woola leaped in frantic joy when he discovered me; and as the flier
touched the pavement of the court for a brief instant he bounded
to the deck beside me, and in the bearlike manifestation of his
exuberant happiness all but caused me to wreck the vessel against
the courtyard's rocky wall.
Amid the angry shouting of thern guardsmen we rose high above the
last fortress of the Holy Therns, and then raced straight toward
the northeast and Kaol, the destination which I had heard from the
lips of Matai Shang.
Far ahead, a tiny speck in the distance, I made out another flier
late in the afternoon. It could be none other than that which bore
my lost love and my enemies.
I had gained considerably on the craft by night; and then, knowing
that they must have sighted me and would show no lights after
dark, I set my destination compass upon her--that wonderful little
Martian mechanism which, once attuned to the object of destination,
points away toward it, irrespective of every change in its location.
All that night we raced through the Barsoomian void, passing over
low hills and dead sea bottoms; above long-deserted cities and
populous centers of red Martian habitation upon the ribbon-like
lines of cultivated land which border the globe-encircling waterways,
which Earth men call the canals of Mars.
Dawn showed that I had gained appreciably upon the flier ahead of
me. It was a larger craft than mine, and not so swift; but even
so, it had covered an immense distance since the flight began.
The change in vegetation below showed me that we were rapidly
nearing the equator. I was now near enough to my quarry to have
used my bow gun; but, though I could see that Dejah Thoris was not
on deck, I feared to fire upon the craft which bore her.
Thurid was deterred by no such scruples; and though it must have
been difficult for him to believe that it was really I who followed
them, he could not very well doubt the witness of his own eyes;
and so he trained their stern gun upon me with his own hands, and
an instant later an explosive radium projectile whizzed perilously
close above my deck.
The black's next shot was more accurate, striking my flier full
upon the prow and exploding with the instant of contact, ripping
wide open the bow buoyancy tanks and disabling the engine.
So quickly did my bow drop after the shot that I scarce had time
to lash Woola to the deck and buckle my own harness to a gunwale
ring before the craft was hanging stern up and making her last long
drop to ground.
Her stern buoyancy tanks prevented her dropping with great rapidity;
but Thurid was firing rapidly now in an attempt to burst these
also, that I might be dashed to death in the swift fall that would
instantly follow a successful shot.
Shot after shot tore past or into us, but by a miracle neither
Woola nor I was hit, nor were the after tanks punctured. This
good fortune could not last indefinitely, and, assured that Thurid
would not again leave me alive, I awaited the bursting of the next
shell that hit; and then, throwing my hands above my head, I let go
my hold and crumpled, limp and inert, dangling in my harness like
a corpse.
The ruse worked, and Thurid fired no more at us. Presently I heard
the diminishing sound of whirring propellers and realized that
again I was safe.
Slowly the stricken flier sank to the ground, and when I had freed
myself and Woola from the entangling wreckage I found that we were
upon the verge of a natural forest--so rare a thing upon the bosom
of dying Mars that, outside of the forest in the Valley Dor beside
the Lost Sea of Korus, I never before had seen its like upon the
planet.
From books and travelers I had learned something of the little-known
land of Kaol, which lies along the equator almost halfway round
the planet to the east of Helium.
It comprises a sunken area of extreme tropical heat, and is inhabited
by a nation of red men varying but little in manners, customs, and
appearance from the balance of the red men of Barsoom.
I knew that they were among those of the outer world who still
clung tenaciously to the discredited religion of the Holy Therns,
and that Matai Shang would find a ready welcome and safe refuge
among them; while John Carter could look for nothing better than
an ignoble death at their hands.
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