I have no stomach to narrate the monotonous events of thetedious days that Woola and I spent ferreting our way across thelabyrinth of glass, through the dark and devious ways beyond thatled beneath the Valley Dor and Golden Cliffs to emerge at last uponthe flank of the Otz Mountains just above the Valley of Lost Souls--that pitiful purgatory peopled by the poor unfortunates who darenot continue their abandoned pilgrimage to Dor, or return to thevarious 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 aplentywith the members of the various tribes that make up the populationof this vale of hopelessness.

But through it all we came at last to where the way led up anarrow gorge that grew steeper and more impracticable at every stepuntil before us loomed a mighty fortress buried beneath the side ofan 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 theancient faith, who had once been served by millions of vassalsand dependents, dispensed the spiritual words among the half dozennations of Barsoom that still clung tenaciously to their falseand discredited religion.

Darkness was just falling as we came in sight of the seeminglyimpregnable walls of this mountain stronghold, and lest we beseen I drew back with Woola behind a jutting granite promontory,into a clump of the hardy, purple scrub that thrives upon thebarren sides of Otz.

Here we lay until the quick transition from daylight to darknesshad passed. Then I crept out to approach the fortress wallsin search of a way within.

Either through carelessness or over-confidence in the supposedinaccessibility of their hiding place, the triple-barred gatestood ajar. Beyond were a handful of guards, laughing andtalking over one of their incomprehensible Barsoomian games.

I saw that none of the guardsmen had been of the party thataccompanied Thurid and Matai Shang; and so, relying entirely uponmy disguise, I walked boldly through the gateway and up to thethern guard.

The men stopped their game and looked up at me, but there was nosign of suspicion. Similarly they looked at Woola, growling atmy heel.

"Kaor!" I said in true Martian greeting, and the warriorsarose and saluted me. "I have but just found my way hither fromthe Golden Cliffs," I continued, "and seek audience with thehekkador, Matai Shang, Father of Therns. Where may he be found?"

"Follow me," said one of the guard, and, turning, led meacross the outer courtyard toward a second buttressed wall.

Why the apparent ease with which I seemingly deceived them did notrouse my suspicions I know not, unless it was that my mind was stillso full of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved princess that therewas room in it for naught else. Be that as it may, the fact is thatI marched buoyantly behind my guide straight into the jaws of death.

Afterward I learned that thern spies had been aware of mycoming for hours before I reached the hidden fortress.

The gate had been purposely left ajar to tempt me on. The guards hadbeen schooled well in their part of the conspiracy; and I, more likea schoolboy than a seasoned warrior, ran headlong into the trap.

At the far side of the outer court a narrow door let into theangle made by one of the buttresses with the wall. Here my guideproduced a key and opened the way within; then, stepping back, hemotioned me to enter.

"Matai Shang is in the temple court beyond," he said; and as Woolaand I passed through, the fellow closed the door quickly upon us.

The nasty laugh that came to my ears through the heavyplanking of the door after the lock clicked was my first intimationthat 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 torchesthat lighted the inner court.

Directly opposite me a massive tower rose to a height of threehundred feet. It was of the strangely beautiful modern Barsoomianstyle of architecture, its entire surface hand carved in boldrelief with intricate and fanciful designs. Thirty feet above thecourtyard 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 handfulof thern warriors stood just behind the little party.

As I entered the enclosure the eyes of those in the balconywere full upon me.

An ugly smile distorted the cruel lips of Matai Shang. Thuridhurled a taunt at me and placed a familiar hand upon the shoulderof my princess. Like a tigress she turned upon him, striking thebeast a heavy blow with the manacles upon her wrist.

He would have struck back had not Matai Shang interfered, and thenI saw that the two men were not over-friendly; for the mannerof the thern was arrogant and domineering as he made it plain tothe First Born that the Princess of Helium was the personalproperty of the Father of Therns. And Thurid's bearing towardthe ancient hekkador savored not at all of liking or respect.

When the altercation in the balcony had subsided Matai Shangturned again to me.

"Earth man," he cried, "you have earned a more ignoble deaththan now lies within our weakened power to inflict upon you;but that the death you die tonight may be doubly bitter, knowyou that when you have passed, your widow becomes the wife ofMatai 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 andhonored life as high priestess of some hallowed shrine. Instead,Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, shall become the plaything of mylieutenants--perhaps of thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the black dator."

As he ceased speaking he awaited in silence evidently for someoutbreak of rage upon my part--something that would haveadded to the spice of his revenge. But I did not give him thesatisfaction that he craved.

Instead, I did the one thing of all others that might rouse hisanger and increase his hatred of me; for I knew that if I diedDejah Thoris, too, would find a way to die before they couldheap further tortures or indignities upon her.

Of all the holy of holies which the thern venerates and worships noneis 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 Iwiped my feet upon the yellow tresses; and as a groan of rage arosefrom the balcony I spat full upon the holy diadem.

Matai Shang went livid with anger, but upon the lips of ThuridI could see a grim smile of amusement, for to him these things werenot 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 LifeEternal, ere I threw Issus herself to the mob that once hadworshiped her, to be torn to pieces in her own temple."

That put an end to Thurid's grinning, for he had been high inthe favor of Issus.

"Let us have an end to this blaspheming!" he cried, turning tothe 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 thepriests upon the tiny balcony upon the face of the Golden Cliffsoverlooking the Valley Dor, when, in times past, they called thefearsome white apes and the hideous plant men to the feast ofvictims floating down the broad bosom of the mysterious Iss towardthe silian-infested waters of the Lost Sea of Korus."Let loose the death!" he cried, and immediately a dozendoors in the base of the tower swung open, and a dozen grimand terrible banths sprang into the arena.

This was not the first time that I had faced the ferociousBarsoomian lion, but never had I been pitted, single-handed,against a full dozen of them. Even with the assistance ofthe fierce Woola, there could be but a single outcome to sounequal a struggle.

For a moment the beasts hesitated beneath the brilliant glareof the torches; but presently their eyes, becoming accustomed tothe light, fell upon Woola and me, and with bristling manes anddeep-throated roars they advanced, lashing their tawny sides withtheir 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 setin an expression of horror; and as my eyes met hers she extendedboth 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 aboutto 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 couldnot force my gaze from the features of the red girl, for I knewthat her expression meant anything but the enjoyment of the grimtragedy that would so soon be enacted below her; there was somedeeper, hidden meaning which I sought to solve.

For an instant I thought of relying on my earthly muscles andagility to escape the banths and reach the balcony, which I couldeasily have done, but I could not bring myself to desert thefaithful Woola and leave him to die alone beneath the cruel fangsof the hungry banths; that is not the way upon Barsoom, nor was itever the way of John Carter.

Then the secret of Thuvia's excitement became apparent as fromher lips there issued the purring sound I had heard once before;that time that, within the Golden Cliffs, she called the fiercebanths about her and led them as a shepherdess might lead her flockof meek and harmless sheep.

At the first note of that soothing sound the banths halted intheir tracks, and every fierce head went high as the beasts soughtthe origin of the familiar call. Presently they discovered the redgirl in the balcony above them, and, turning, roared out theirrecognition and their greeting.

Guards sprang to drag Thuvia away, but ere they had succeededshe 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 harmyou now, nor Woola, either."

It was all I cared to know. There was naught to keep me fromthat balcony now, and with a long, running leap I sprang far aloftuntil 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 heraway through a door leading within the tower.

For an instant Thurid hesitated, and then, as though fearingthat the Father of Therns would escape him with the Princess ofHelium, he, too, dashed from the balcony in their wake.

Phaidor alone retained her presence of mind. Two of the guardsshe ordered to bear away Thuvia of Ptarth; the others she commandedto remain and prevent me from following. Then she turned toward me.

"John Carter," she cried, "for the last time I offer you thelove of Phaidor, daughter of the Holy Hekkador. Accept and yourprincess shall be returned to the court of her grandfather, and youshall live in peace and happiness. Refuse and the fate that myfather has threatened shall fall upon Dejah Thoris.

"You cannot save her now, for by this time they have reached a placewhere even you may not follow. Refuse and naught can save you;for, though the way to the last stronghold of the Holy Thernswas 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 ofHelium, would pass!"

With that I leaped over the low baluster that surrounded thebalcony, and with drawn long-sword faced my enemies.

There were three of them; but Phaidor must have guessed what theoutcome of the battle would be, for she turned and fled from thebalcony the moment she saw that I would have none of her proposition.

The three guardsmen did not wait for my attack. Instead, theyrushed me--the three of them simultaneously; and it was that whichgave me an advantage, for they fouled one another in the narrowprecincts of the balcony, so that the foremost of them stumbledfull upon my blade at the first onslaught.

The red stain upon my point roused to its full the old blood-lustof the fighting man that has ever been so strong within my breast,so that my blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadlyaccuracy that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.

When at last the sharp steel found the heart of one of themthe other turned to flee, and, guessing that his steps would leadhim along the way taken by those I sought, I let him keep ever farenough ahead to think that he was safely escaping my sword.

Through several inner chambers he raced until he came to aspiral runway. Up this he dashed, I in close pursuit. At theupper end we came out into a small chamber, the walls of which wereplank except for a single window overlooking the slopes of Otz andthe Valley of Lost Souls beyond.

Here the fellow tore frantically at what appeared to be but apiece of the blank wall opposite the single window. In an instantI guessed that it was a secret exit from the room, and so I pausedthat he might have an opportunity to negotiate it, for I carednothing to take the life of this poor servitor--all I craved was aclear road in pursuit of Dejah Thoris, my long-lost princess.

But, try as he would, the panel would yield neither to cunningnor force, so that eventually he gave it up and turned to face me.

"Go thy way, Thern," I said to him, pointing toward the entranceto the runway up which we had but just come. "I have no quarrelwith 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, andthat as quickly as might be, that I might not be delayed too longin this chamber while Matai Shang and Thurid made way with DejahThoris 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 thingas a code of honor, for he repeatedly outraged a dozen Barsoomianfighting customs that an honorable man would rather die than ignore.

He even went so far as to snatch his holy wig from his headand throw it in my face, so as to blind me for a moment while hethrust at my unprotected breast.

When he thrust, however, I was not there, for I had fought withtherns before; and while none had ever resorted to precisely thatsame expedient, I knew them to be the least honorable and mosttreacherous fighters upon Mars, and so was ever on the alert for somenew and devilish subterfuge when I was engaged with one of their race.

But at length he overdid the thing; for, drawing hisshortsword, he hurled it, javelinwise, at my body, at the sameinstant rushing upon me with his long-sword. A single sweepingcircle of my own blade caught the flying weapon and hurled itclattering against the far wall, and then, as I sidestepped myantagonist's impetuous rush, I let him have my point full in thestomach as he hurtled by.

Clear to the hilt my weapon passed through his body, and witha frightful shriek he sank to the floor, dead.

Halting only for the brief instant that was required to wrenchmy sword from the carcass of my late antagonist, I sprang acrossthe chamber to the blank wall beyond, through which the thern hadattempted 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, unyieldingstone might well have laughed at my futile, puny endeavors.In fact, I could have sworn that I caught the faint suggestionof taunting laughter from beyond the baffling panel.

In disgust I desisted from my useless efforts and stepped tothe chamber's single window.

The slopes of Otz and the distant Valley of Lost Souls heldnothing 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 meI could see windows. There, possibly, lay the only way by whichI could reach her. The risk was great, but not too great whenthe fate of a world's most wondrous woman was at stake.

I glanced below. A hundred feet beneath lay jagged graniteboulders at the brink of a frightful chasm upon which the towerabutted; and if not upon the boulders, then at the chasm's bottom,lay death, should a foot slip but once, or clutching fingers loosetheir hold for the fraction of an instant.

But there was no other way and with a shrug, which I mustadmit was half shudder, I stepped to the window's outer silland began my perilous ascent.

To my dismay I found that, unlike the ornamentation upon mostHeliumetic structures, the edges of the carvings were quitegenerally rounded, so that at best my every hold was mostprecarious.

Fifty feet above me commenced a series of projecting cylindricalstones some six inches in diameter. These apparently circledthe tower at six-foot intervals, in bands six feet apart;and as each stone cylinder protruded some four or five inchesbeyond the surface of the other ornamentation, they presented acomparatively easy mode of ascent could I but reach them.

Laboriously I climbed toward them by way of some windows whichlay below them, for I hoped that I might find ingress to the towerthrough one of these, and thence an easier avenue along which toprosecute my search.

At times so slight was my hold upon the rounded surfaces of thecarving's edges that a sneeze, a cough, or even a slight gust ofwind would have dislodged me and sent me hurtling to the depths below.

But finally I reached a point where my fingers could just clutchthe sill of the lowest window, and I was on the point of breathinga sigh of relief when the sound of voices came to me from abovethrough the open window.

"He can never solve the secret of that lock." The voice wasMatai Shang's. "Let us proceed to the hangar above that we may befar 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 theymay follow us upon another flier--overtaking us at Kaol."

My upstretched fingers never reached the window's sill. Atthe first sound of the voices I drew back my hand and clung thereto my perilous perch, flattened against the perpendicular wall,scarce daring to breathe.

What a horrible position, indeed, in which to be discovered byThurid! He had but to lean from the window to push me with hissword's point into eternity.

Presently the sound of the voices became fainter, and onceagain I took up my hazardous ascent, now more difficult, since morecircuitous, for I must climb so as to avoid the windows.

Matai Shang's reference to the hangar and the fliers indicatedthat my destination lay nothing short of the roof of the tower, andtoward this seemingly distant goal I set my face.

The most difficult and dangerous part of the journey was accomplishedat last, and it was with relief that I felt my fingers close aboutthe lowest of the stone cylinders.

It is true that these projections were too far apart to makethe balance of the ascent anything of a sinecure, but I at leasthad always within my reach a point of safety to which I might clingin case of accident.

Some ten feet below the roof, the wall inclined slightly inwardpossibly a foot in the last ten feet, and here the climbing wasindeed 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 aflier all but ready to rise.

Upon her deck were Matai Shang, Phaidor, Dejah Thoris, Thuviaof Ptarth, and a few thern warriors, while near her was Thurid inthe 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 aboutjust 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 facelighted with a malignant smile as he leaped toward me, where Iwas hastening to scramble to the secure footing of the roof.

Dejah Thoris must have seen me at the same instant, for shescreamed a useless warning just as Thurid's foot, swinging ina mighty kick, landed full in my face.

Like a felled ox, I reeled and tumbled backward over thetower's side.