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.
XVII
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 by 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 have 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 knew 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 hole 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 ray 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 not 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.
* * * * *
A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
Here's as exciting a novel as Edgar Rice Burroughs, creator of TARZAN
OF THE APES, ever wrote. It's a novel about Barsoom, the Red Planet,
whose Warlord, the famous John Carter, is aroused when a strange new
weapon attacks his airfleet and a lovely lady disappears.
Hadron of Hastor, one of Carter's finest warriors, takes to the field
to avenge Helium and locate the hidden foe. His adventures among the
little known ancient cities of Mars, his comradeship with the brave
warrior-woman Tavia, and their struggle together against the hordes
of a cunning monarch, make A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS a breathtaking
science-fiction classic.
* * * * *
Edgar Rice Burroughs is renowned for his many novels of fantastic
adventure. Unquestionably his best known creation is that of the jungle
hero, Tarzan the Ape Man, but almost as well known are his stories of
other planets and of Pellucidar beneath the Earth's crust.
Born in Chicago in 1875, he tried his hand at many businesses without
notable success, until at the age of thirty-five, he turned to writing.
With the publication of _Tarzan of the Apes_ and _A Princess of Mars_,
his career was assured. The gratitude of a multitude of readers who
found in his imagination exactly the kind of escape reading they loved
assured him of a well-earned fortune.
By the time of his death, in 1950, at his home in a town bearing the
name of his brain child, Tarzana, California, his name was a byword in
literature. Over 40,000,000 copies of his books have appeared in 58
different languages.