THE BARSOOM!
The city was already in flames in many places, and though the people
fought valiantly to extinguish them, it seemed to me that they but
spread the more rapidly with each succeeding minute. And then, as
suddenly as it had commenced, the bombardment ceased. Nah-ee-lah and
I crossed over to the outer edge of the terrace to see if we could
note any new movement by the enemy, nor did we have long to wait. We
saw a hundred ladders raised as if by magic toward the lowest
terrace, which rose but a bare two hundred feet above the base of the
city. The men who carried the ladders were not visible to us when
they came close to the base of the wall, but I guessed from the
distant glimpses that I caught of the ladders as they were rushed
forward by running men that here, again, Orthis’ earthly knowledge
and experience had come to the assistance of the Kalkars, for I was
sure that only some form of extension ladder could be successfully
used to reach even the lowest terrace.
When I saw their intention I ran quickly down into the palace and out
upon the terrace before the gates, where the remainder of the guard
were stationed, and there I told them what was happening and urged
them to hasten the people to the lowest terrace to repulse the enemy
before they had secured a foothold upon the city. Then I returned to
Nah-ee-lah, and together we watched the outcome of the struggle, but
almost from the first I realized that Laythe was doomed, for before
any of her defenders could reach the spot, fully a thousand Kalkars
had clambered to the terrace, and there they held their own while
other thousands ascended in safety to the city.
We saw the defenders rush forth to attack them, and for a moment, so
impetuous was their charge, I thought that I had been wrong and that
the Kalkars might yet be driven from Laythe. Fighting upon the lower
outer terrace far beneath us was a surging mass of shouting warriors.
The Kalkars were falling back before the impetuous onslaught of the
Laytheans.
“They have not the blood in their veins,” whispered Nah-ee-lah,
clinging tightly to my arm. “One noble is worth ten of them. Watch
them. Already are they fleeing.”
And so it seemed, and the rout of the Kalkars appeared almost
assured, as score upon score of them were hurled over the edge of the
terrace, to fall mangled and bleeding upon the ground hundreds of
feet below.
But suddenly a new force seemed to be injected into the strife. I saw
a stream of Kalkars emerging above the edge of the lower terrace—new
men clambering up the ladders from the plateau below, and as they
came they shouted something which I could not understand, but the
other Kalkars seemed to take heart and made once more the semblance
of a stand against the noble Laytheans, and I saw one, the leader of
the newcomers, force his way into the battling throng. And then I saw
him raise his hand above his head and hurl something into the midst
of the compact ranks of the Laytheans.
Instantly there was a terrific explosion and a great, bloody gap lay
upon the terrace where an instant before a hundred of the flower of
the fighting men of Laythe had been so gloriously defending their
city and their honor.
“Grenades,” I exclaimed. “Hand grenades!”
“What is it, Julian? What is it that they are doing down there?”
cried Nah-ee-lah. “They are murdering my people.”
“Yes, Nah-ee-lah, they are murdering your people, and well may Va-nah
curse the day that Earth Men set foot upon your world.”
“I do not understand, Julian,” she said.
“This is the work of Orthis,” I said, “who has brought from Earth the
knowledge of diabolical engines of destruction. He first shelled the
city with what must have been nothing more than crude mortars, for it
is impossible that he has had the time to construct the machinery to
build any but the simplest of guns. Now his troops are hurling hand
grenades among your men. There is no chance, Nah-ee-lah, for the
Laytheans to successfully pit their primitive weapons against the
modern agents of destruction which Orthis has brought to bear against
them. Laythe must surrender or be destroyed.”
Nah-ee-lah laid her head upon my shoulder and wept softly. “Julian,”
she said at last, “this is the end, then. Take me to the Jemadav, my
mother, please, and then you must go and make your peace with your
fellow Earth Man. It is not right that you, a stranger, who have done
so much for me, should fall with me and Laythe.”
“The only peace I can make with Orthis, Nah-ee-lah,” I replied, “is
the peace of death. Orthis and I may not live together again in the
same world.”
She was crying very softly, sobbing upon my shoulder, and I put my
arm about her in an effort to quiet her.
“I have brought you only suffering and danger, and now death, Julian,”
she said, “when you deserve naught but happiness and peace.”
I suddenly felt very strange and my heart behaved wretchedly, so that
when I attempted to speak it pounded so that I could say nothing and
my knees shook beneath me. What had come over me? Could it be
possible that already Orthis had loosed his poison gas? Then, at
last, I managed to gather myself together.
“Nah-ee-lah,” I said, “I do not fear death if you must die, and I do
not seek happiness except with you.”
She looked up suddenly, her great, tear-dimmed eyes wide and gazing
deep into mine.
“You mean—Julian? You mean—?”
“I mean, Nah-ee-lah, that I love you,” I replied, though I must have
stumbled through the words in a most ridiculous manner, so frightened
was I.
“Ah, Julian,” she sighed, and put her arms about my neck.
“And you, Nah-ee-lah!” I exclaimed incredulously, as I crushed her to
me, “can it be that you return my love?”
“I have loved you always,” she replied. “From the very first, almost—
way back when we were prisoners together in the No-vans’ village. You
Earth Men must be very blind, my Julian. A Laythean would have known
it at once, for it seemed to me that upon a dozen occasions I almost
avowed my love openly to you.”
“Alas, Nah-ee-lah! I must have been very blind, for I had not guessed
until this minute that you loved me.”
“Now,” she said, “I do not care what happens. We have one another,
and if we die together, doubtless we shall live together in a new
incarnation.”
“I hope so,” I said, “but I should much rather be sure of it and live
together in this.”
“And I, too, Julian, but that is impossible.”
We were walking now through the corridors of the palace toward the
chamber occupied by her mother, but we did not find her there and Nah-
ee-lah became apprehensive as to her safety. Hurriedly we searched
through other chambers of the palace, until at last we came to the
little audience chamber in which Sagroth had been slain, and as we
threw open the door I saw a sight that I tried to hide from Nah-ee-
lah’s eyes as I drew her around in an effort to force her back into
the corridor. Possibly she guessed what impelled my action, for she
shook her head and murmured: “No, Julian; whatever it is I must see
it.” And then she pushed her way gently past me, and we stood
together upon the threshold, looking at the harrowing sight which the
interior of the room displayed.
There were the bodies of the assassins Sagroth and I had slain, and
the dead Jemadar, too, precisely as he had fallen, while across his
breast lay the body of Nah-ee-lah’s mother, a dagger self-thrust
through her heart. For just a moment Nah-ee-lah stood there looking
at them in silence, as though in prayer, and then she turned wearily
away and left the chamber, closing the door behind her. We walked on
in silence for some time, ascending the stairway back to the upper
terrace. Upon the inner side, the flames were spreading throughout
the city, roaring like a mighty furnace and vomiting up great clouds
of smoke, for though the Laythean terraces are supported by
tremendous arches of masonry, yet there is much wood used in the
interior construction of the buildings, while the hangings and the
furniture are all inflammable.
“We had no chance to save the city,” said Nah-ee-lah, with a sigh.
“Our people, called from their normal duties by the false Ko-tah,
were leaderless. The fire fighters, instead of being at their posts,
were seeking the life of their Jemadar. Unhappy day! Unhappy day!”
“You think they could have stopped the fire?” I asked.
“The little ponds, the rivulets, the waterfalls, the great public
baths and the tiny lakes that you see upon every terrace were all
built with fire protection in mind. It is easy to divert their waters
and flood any tier of buildings. Had my people been at their posts,
this, at least, could not have happened.”
As we stood watching the flames we suddenly saw people emerging in
great numbers upon several of the lower terraces. They were evidently
in terrified flight, and then others appeared upon terraces above
them—Kalkars who hurled hand grenades amongst the Laytheans beneath
them. Men, women, and children ran hither and thither, shrieking and
crying and seeking for shelter, but from the buildings behind them,
rushing them outward upon the terraces, came other Kalkars with hand
grenades. The fires hemmed the people of Laythe upon either side and
the Kalkars attacked them from the rear and from above. The weaker
fell and were trodden to death, and I saw scores fall upon their own
lances or drive daggers into the hearts of their loved ones.
The massacre spread rapidly around the circumference of the city and
the Kalkars drove the people from the upper terraces downward between
the raging fires which were increasing until the mouth of the great
crater was filled with roaring flames and smoke. In the occasional
gaps we could catch glimpses of the holocaust beneath us.
A sudden current of air rising from the crater lifted the smoke pall
high for a moment, revealing the entire circumference of the crater,
the edge of which was crowded with Laytheans. And then I saw a
warrior from the opposite side leap upon the surrounding wall that
bordered the lower terrace at the edge of the yawning crater. He
turned and called aloud some message, to his fellows, and then
wheeling, threw his arms above his head and leaped outward into the
yawning, bottomless abyss. Instantly the others seemed to be
inoculated with the infection of his mad act. A dozen men leaped to
the wall and dove head foremost into the crater. The thing spread
slowly at first, and then with the rapidity of a prairie fire, it ran
around the entire circle of the city. Women hurled their children in
and then leaped after them. The multitude fought one with another for
a place upon the wall from which they might cast themselves to death.
It was a terrible—an awe-inspiring sight.
Nah-ee-lah covered her eyes with her hands. “My poor people!” she
cried. “My poor people!” And far below her, by the thousands now,
they were hurling themselves into eternity, while above them the
screaming Kalkars hurled hand grenades among them and drove the
remaining inhabitants of Laythe, terrace by terrace, down toward the
crater’s rim.
Nah-ee-lah turned away. “Come, Julian,” she said, “I cannot look, I
cannot look.” And together we walked across the terrace to the outer
side of the city.
Almost directly beneath us upon the next terrace was a palace gate
and as we reached a point where we could see it, I was horrified to
see that the Kalkars had made their way up the outer terraces to the
very palace walls. The Jemadar’s guard was standing there ready to
defend the palace against the invaders. The great stone gates would
have held indefinitely against spears and swords, but even the
guardsmen must have guessed that their doom was already sealed and
that these gates, that had stood for ages, an ample protection to the
Jemadars of Laythe, were about to fall, as the Kalkars halted fifty
yards away, and from their ranks a single individual stepped forth a
few paces.
As my eyes alighted upon him I seized Nah-ee-lah’s arm. “Orthis!” I
cried. “It is Orthis.” At the same instant the man’s eyes rose above
the gates and fell upon us. A nasty leer curled his lips as he
recognized us.
“I come to claim my bride,” he cried, in a voice that reached us
easily, “and to balance my account with you, at last,” and he pointed
a finger at me.
In his right hand he held a large, cylindrical object, and as he
ceased speaking he hurled it at the gates precisely as a baseball
pitcher pitches a swift ball.
The missile struck squarely at the bottom of the gates. There was a
terrific explosion, and the great stone portals crumbled, shattered
into a thousand fragments. The last defense of the Empress of Laythe
had fallen, and with it there went down in bloody death at least half
the remaining members of her loyal guard.
Instantly the Kalkars rushed forward, hurling hand grenades among the
survivors of the guard.
Nah-ee-lah turned toward me and put her arms about my neck.
“Kiss me once more, Julian,” she said, “and then the dagger.”
“Never, never, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried. “I cannot do it.”
“But I can!” she exclaimed, and drew her own from its sheath at her
hip.
I seized her wrist. “Not that, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried. “There must be
some other way.” And then there came to me a mad inspiration. “The
wings!” I cried. “Where are they kept? The last of your people have
been destroyed. Duty no longer holds you here. Let us escape, even if
it is only to frustrate Orthis’ plans and deny him the satisfaction
of witnessing our death.”
“But, where can we go?” she asked.
“We may at least choose our own manner of death,” I replied, “far
from Laythe and far from the eyes of an enemy who would gloat over
our undoing.”
“You are right, Julian. We still have a little time, for I doubt if
Orthis or his Kalkars can quickly find the stairway leading to this
terrace.” And then she led me quickly to one of the many towers that
rise above the palace. Entering it, we ascended a spiral staircase to
a large chamber at the summit of the tower. Here were kept the
imperial wings. I fastened Nah-ee-lah’s to her and she helped me with
mine, and then from the pinnacle of the tower we arose above the
burning city of Laythe and flew rapidly toward the distant lowlands
and the sea. It was in my mind to search out, if possible, the
location of _The Barsoom_, for I still entertained the mad hope that
my companions yet lived—if I did, why not they?
The heat above the city was almost unendurable and the smoke
suffocating, yet we passed through it, so that almost immediately we
were hidden from the view of that portion of the palace from which we
had arisen, with the result that when Orthis and his Kalkars finally
found their way to the upper terrace, as I have no doubt they did, we
had disappeared—whither they could not know.
We flew and drifted with the wind across the mountainous country
toward the plains and the sea, it being my intention upon reaching
the latter to follow the coast line until I came to a river marked by
an island at its mouth. From that point I knew that I could reach the
spot where _The Barsoom_ had landed.
Our long flight must have covered a considerable period of time,
since it was necessary for us to alight and rest many times and to
search for food. We met, fortunately, with no mishaps, and upon the
several occasions when we were discovered by roving bands of Va-gas
we were able to soar far aloft and escape them easily. We came at
length, however, to the sea, the coast of which I followed to the
left, but though we passed the mouths of many rivers, I discovered
none that precisely answered the description of that which I sought.
It was borne in upon me at last that our quest was futile, but where
we were to find a haven of safety neither of us could guess. The gas
in our bags was losing its buoyancy and we had no means wherewith to
replenish it. It would still maintain us for a short time, but how
long neither of us knew, other than that it had not nearly the
buoyancy that it originally possessed.
Off the coast we had seen islands almost continuously and I suggested
to Nah-ee-lah that we try to discover one upon which grew the fruits
and nuts and vegetables necessary for our subsistence, and where we
might also have a constant supply of fresh water.
I discovered that Nah-ee-lah knew little about these islands,
practically nothing in fact, not even as to whether they were
inhabited; but we determined to explore one, and to this end we
selected an island of considerable extent that lay about ten miles
off shore. We reached it without difficulty and circled slowly above
it, scrutinizing its entire area carefully. About half of it was
quite hilly, but the balance was rolling and comparatively level. We
discovered three streams and two small lakes upon it, and an almost
riotous profusion of vegetable growth, but nowhere did we discern the
slightest indication that it was inhabited. And so at last, feeling
secure, we made our landing upon the plain, close to the beach.
It was a beautiful spot, a veritable Garden of Eden, where we two
might have passed the remainder of our lives in peace and security,
for though we later explored it carefully, we found not the slightest
evidence that it had ever known the foot of man.
Together we built a snug shelter against the storms. Together we
hunted for food, and during our long periods of idleness we lay upon
the soft sward beside the beach, and to pass the time away, I taught
Nah-ee-lah my own language. It was a lazy, indolent, happy life that
we spent upon this enchanted isle, and yet, though we were happy in
our love, each of us felt the futility of our existence, where our
lives must be spent in useless idleness.
We had, however, given up definitely hope for any other form of
existence. And thus we were lying one time, as was our wont after
eating, stretched in luxurious ease upon our backs on the soft lunar
grasses, I with my eyes closed, when Nah-ee-lah suddenly grasped me
by the arm.
“Julian,” she cried, “what is it? Look!”
I opened my eyes, to find her sitting up and gazing into the sky
toward the mainland, a slim forefinger indicating the direction of
the object that had attracted her attention and aroused her surprised
interest.
As my eyes rested upon the thing her pointing finger indicated, I
leaped to my feet with an exclamation of incredulity, for there,
sailing parallel with the coast at an altitude of not more than a
thousand feet, was a ship, the lines of which I knew as I had known
my mother’s face. It was _The Barsoom_.
Grasping Nah-ee-lah by the arm, I dragged her to her feet. “Come,
quick, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried, and urged her rapidly toward our hut,
where we had stored the wings and the gas bags which we had never
thought to use again, yet protected carefully, though why we knew
not.
There was still gas in the bags—enough to support us in the air, with
the assistance of our wings, but to fly thus for long distances would
have been most fatiguing, and there was even a question as to whether
we could cross the ten miles of sea that lay between us and the
mainland; yet I was determined to attempt it. Hastily we donned the
wings and bags, and rising together, flapped slowly in the direction
of the mainland.
_The Barsoom_ was cruising slowly along a line that would cross ours
before we could reach the shore, but I hoped that they would sight us
and investigate.
We flew as rapidly as I dared, for I could take no chances upon
exhausting Nah-ee-lah, knowing that it would be absolutely impossible
for me to support her weight and my own, with our depleted gas bags.
There was no way in which I could signal to _The Barsoom_. We must
simply fly toward her. That was the best that we could do, and
finally, try though we would, I realized that we should be too late
to intercept her and that unless they saw us and changed their
course, we should not come close enough to hail them. To see my
friends passing so near, and yet to be unable to apprise them of my
presence filled me with melancholy. Not one of the many vicissitudes
and dangers through which I had passed since I left Earth depressed
me more than the sight of _The Barsoom_ forging slowly past us
without speaking. I saw her change her course then and move inland
still further from us, and I could not but dwell upon our unhappy
condition, since now we might never again be able to reach the safety
of our island, there being even a question as to whether the gas bags
would support us to the mainland.
They did, however, and there we alighted and rested, while _The
Barsoom_ sailed out of sight toward the mountains.
“I shall not give it up, Nah-ee-lah,” I cried. “I am going to follow
_The Barsoom_ until we find it, or until we die in the attempt. I
doubt if we ever can reach the island again, but we can make short
flights here on land, and by so doing, we may overtake my ship and my
companions.”
After resting for a short time, we arose again, and when we were
above the trees I saw _The Barsoom_ far in the distance, and again it
was circling, this time toward the left, so we altered our course and
flew after it. But presently we realized that it was making a great
circle and hope renewed within our breasts, giving us the strength to
fly on and on, though we were forced to come down often for brief
rests. As we neared the ship we saw that the circles were growing
smaller, but it was not until we were within about three miles of her
that I realized that she was circling the mouth of a great crater,
the walls of which rose several hundred feet above the surrounding
country. We had been forced to land again to rest, when there flashed
upon my mind a sudden realization of the purpose of the maneuvers of
_The Barsoom_—she was investigating the crater, preparatory to an
attempt to pass through it into outer space and seek to return to
Earth again.
As this thought impinged upon my brain, a wave of almost hopeless
horror overwhelmed me as I thought of being definitely left forever
by my companions and that by but a few brief minutes Nah-ee-lah was
to be robbed of life and happiness and peace, for at that instant the
hull of _The Barsoom_ dropped beneath the rim of the crater and
disappeared from our view.
Rising quickly with Nah-ee-lah, I flew as rapidly as my tired muscles
and exhausted gas bag would permit toward the rim of the crater. In
my heart of hearts I knew that I should be too late, for once they
had decided to make the attempt, the ship would drop like a plummet
into the depths, and by the time I reached the mouth of the abyss it
would be lost to my view forever.
And yet I struggled on, my lungs almost bursting from the exertion of
my mad efforts toward speed. Nah-ee-lah trailed far behind, for if
either of us could reach _The Barsoom_ in time we should both be
saved, and I could fly faster than Nah-ee-lah; otherwise, I should
never have separated myself from her by so much as a hundred yards.
Though my lungs were pumping like bellows, I venture to say that my
heart stood still for several seconds before I topped the crater’s
rim.
At the same instant that I expected the last vestige of my hopes to
be dashed to pieces irrevocably and forever, I crossed the rim and
beheld _The Barsoom_ not twenty feet below me, just over the edge of
the abyss, and upon her deck stood West and Jay and Norton.
As I came into view directly above them, West whipped out his
revolver and leveled it at me, but the instant that his finger
pressed the trigger Norton sprang forward and struck his hand aside.
“My God, sir!” I heard the boy cry, “it is the Captain.” And then
they all recognized me, and an instant later I almost collapsed as I
fell to the deck of my beloved ship.
My first thought was of Nah-ee-lah, and at my direction _The Barsoom_
rose swiftly and moved to meet her.
“Great Scott!” cried my guest, leaping to his feet and looking out of
the stateroom window, “I had no idea that I had kept you up all
night. Here we are in Paris already.”
“But the rest of your story,” I cried. “You have not finished it, I
know. Last night, as you were watching them celebrating in the Blue
Room, you made a remark which led me to believe that some terrible
calamity threatened the world.”
“It does,” he said, “and that was what I meant to tell you about, but
this story of the third incarnation of which I am conscious was
necessary to an understanding of how the great catastrophe
overwhelmed the people of the earth.”
“But, did you reach Earth again?” I demanded.
“Yes,” he said, “in the year 2036. I had been ten years within Va-
nah, but did not know whether it was ten months or a century until we
landed upon Earth.”
He smiled then. “You notice that I still say I. It is sometimes
difficult for me to recall which incarnation I am in. Perhaps it will
be clearer to you if I say Julian 5th returned to Earth in 2036, and
in the same year his son, Julian 6th, was born to his wife, Nah-ee-
lah the Moon Maid.”
“But how could he return to Earth in the disabled _Barsoom_?”
“Ah,” he said, “that raises a point that was of great interest to
Julian 5th. After he regained _The Barsoom_, naturally one of the
first questions he asked was as to the condition of the ship and
their intentions, and when he learned that they had, in reality, been
intending to pass through the crater toward the Earth he questioned
them further and discovered that it was the young ensign, Norton, who
had repaired the engine, having been able to do it by information
that he had gleaned from Orthis, after winning the latter’s
friendship. Thus was explained the intimacy between the two, which
Julian 5th had so deplored, but which he now saw that young Norton
had encouraged for a patriotic purpose.
“We are docked now and I must be going. Thank you for your
hospitality and for your generous interest,” and he held out his hand
toward me.
“But the story of Julian 9th,” I insisted, “am I never to hear that?”
“If we meet again, yes,” he promised, with a smile.
“I shall hold you to it,” I told him.
“If we meet again,” he repeated, and departed, closing the stateroom
door after him.