Early the next morning I was astir. Considerable freedom wasallowed me, as Sola had informed me that so long as I didnot attempt to leave the city I was free to go and come asI pleased. She had warned me, however, against venturing forthunarmed, as this city, like all other deserted metropolises ofan ancient Martian civilization, was peopled by the greatwhite apes of my second day's adventure.

In advising me that I must not leave the boundaries ofthe city Sola had explained that Woola would prevent thisanyway should I attempt it, and she warned me most urgentlynot to arouse his fierce nature by ignoring his warningsshould I venture too close to the forbidden territory. Hisnature was such, she said, that he would bring me back intothe city dead or alive should I persist in opposing him;"preferably dead," she added.

On this morning I had chosen a new street to explore whensuddenly I found myself at the limits of the city. Beforeme were low hills pierced by narrow and inviting ravines.I longed to explore the country before me, and, like thepioneer stock from which I sprang, to view what thelandscape beyond the encircling hills might disclosefrom the summits which shut out my view.

It also occurred to me that this would prove an excellentopportunity to test the qualities of Woola. I was convincedthat the brute loved me; I had seen more evidences of affectionin him than in any other Martian animal, man or beast,and I was sure that gratitude for the acts that had twicesaved his life would more than outweigh his loyalty to theduty imposed upon him by cruel and loveless masters.

As I approached the boundary line Woola ran anxiouslybefore me, and thrust his body against my legs. His expressionwas pleading rather than ferocious, nor did he bare hisgreat tusks or utter his fearful guttural warnings. Deniedthe friendship and companionship of my kind, I had developedconsiderable affection for Woola and Sola, for the normalearthly man must have some outlet for his natural affections,and so I decided upon an appeal to a like instinct in thisgreat brute, sure that I would not be disappointed.

I had never petted nor fondled him, but now I sat uponthe ground and putting my arms around his heavy neck Istroked and coaxed him, talking in my newly acquiredMartian tongue as I would have to my hound at home, as Iwould have talked to any other friend among the loweranimals. His response to my manifestation of affection wasremarkable to a degree; he stretched his great mouth to itsfull width, baring the entire expanse of his upper rows oftusks and wrinkling his snout until his great eyes werealmost hidden by the folds of flesh. If you have ever seen acollie smile you may have some idea of Woola's facial distortion.

He threw himself upon his back and fairly wallowed atmy feet; jumped up and sprang upon me, rolling me uponthe ground by his great weight; then wriggling and squirmingaround me like a playful puppy presenting its back forthe petting it craves. I could not resist the ludicrousnessof the spectacle, and holding my sides I rocked back and forthin the first laughter which had passed my lips in many days;the first, in fact, since the morning Powell had left campwhen his horse, long unused, had precipitately and unexpectedlybucked him off headforemost into a pot of frijoles.

My laughter frightened Woola, his antics ceased and hecrawled pitifully toward me, poking his ugly head far intomy lap; and then I remembered what laughter signified onMars--torture, suffering, death. Quieting myself, I rubbedthe poor old fellow's head and back, talked to him for a fewminutes, and then in an authoritative tone commanded himto follow me, and arising started for the hills.

There was no further question of authority between us;Woola was my devoted slave from that moment hence, andI his only and undisputed master. My walk to the hillsoccupied but a few minutes, and I found nothing of particularinterest to reward me. Numerous brilliantly colored andstrangely formed wild flowers dotted the ravines and fromthe summit of the first hill I saw still other hills stretching offtoward the north, and rising, one range above another, untillost in mountains of quite respectable dimensions; though Iafterward found that only a few peaks on all Mars exceedfour thousand feet in height; the suggestion of magnitudewas merely relative.

My morning's walk had been large with importance tome for it had resulted in a perfect understanding with Woola,upon whom Tars Tarkas relied for my safe keeping. I nowknew that while theoretically a prisoner I was virtually free,and I hastened to regain the city limits before the defectionof Woola could be discovered by his erstwhile masters. Theadventure decided me never again to leave the limits of myprescribed stamping grounds until I was ready to venture forthfor good and all, as it would certainly result in a curtailmentof my liberties, as well as the probable death of Woola, were weto be discovered.

On regaining the plaza I had my third glimpse of thecaptive girl. She was standing with her guards before theentrance to the audience chamber, and as I approached shegave me one haughty glance and turned her back full uponme. The act was so womanly, so earthly womanly, thatthough it stung my pride it also warmed my heart with afeeling of companionship; it was good to know that someoneelse on Mars beside myself had human instincts of a civilizedorder, even though the manifestation of them was so painfuland mortifying.

Had a green Martian woman desired to show dislike or contemptshe would, in all likelihood, have done it with a swordthrust or a movement of her trigger finger; but as theirsentiments are mostly atrophied it would have required aserious injury to have aroused such passions in them. Sola,let me add, was an exception; I never saw her perform a cruelor uncouth act, or fail in uniform kindliness and goodnature. She was indeed, as her fellow Martian had said of her,an atavism; a dear and precious reversion to a former typeof loved and loving ancestor.

Seeing that the prisoner seemed the center of attraction Ihalted to view the proceedings. I had not long to waitfor presently Lorquas Ptomel and his retinue of chieftainsapproached the building and, signing the guards to follow withthe prisoner entered the audience chamber. Realizing that Iwas a somewhat favored character, and also convinced thatthe warriors did not know of my proficiency in their language,as I had pleaded with Sola to keep this a secret on thegrounds that I did not wish to be forced to talk with themen until I had perfectly mastered the Martian tongue, Ichanced an attempt to enter the audience chamber and listento the proceedings.

The council squatted upon the steps of the rostrum, whilebelow them stood the prisoner and her two guards. I sawthat one of the women was Sarkoja, and thus understoodhow she had been present at the hearing of the precedingday, the results of which she had reported to the occupantsof our dormitory last night. Her attitude toward the captivewas most harsh and brutal. When she held her, she sunk herrudimentary nails into the poor girl's flesh, or twisted herarm in a most painful manner. When it was necessary tomove from one spot to another she either jerked her roughly,or pushed her headlong before her. She seemed to be ventingupon this poor defenseless creature all the hatred, cruelty,ferocity, and spite of her nine hundred years, backed byunguessable ages of fierce and brutal ancestors.

The other woman was less cruel because she was entirelyindifferent; if the prisoner had been left to her alone, andfortunately she was at night, she would have received noharsh treatment, nor, by the same token would she havereceived any attention at all.

As Lorquas Ptomel raised his eyes to address the prisonerthey fell on me and he turned to Tars Tarkas with a word,and gesture of impatience. Tars Tarkas made some replywhich I could not catch, but which caused Lorquas Ptomel tosmile; after which they paid no further attention to me.

"What is your name?" asked Lorquas Ptomel, addressingthe prisoner.

"Dejah Thoris, daughter of Mors Kajak of Helium."

"And the nature of your expedition?" he continued.

"It was a purely scientific research party sent out by myfather's father, the Jeddak of Helium, to rechart the aircurrents, and to take atmospheric density tests," repliedthe fair prisoner, in a low, well-modulated voice.

"We were unprepared for battle," she continued, "as wewere on a peaceful mission, as our banners and the colors ofour craft denoted. The work we were doing was as much inyour interests as in ours, for you know full well that were itnot for our labors and the fruits of our scientific operationsthere would not be enough air or water on Mars to supporta single human life. For ages we have maintained the air andwater supply at practically the same point without anappreciable loss, and we have done this in the face ofthe brutal and ignorant interference of your green men.

"Why, oh, why will you not learn to live in amity withyour fellows, must you ever go on down the ages to yourfinal extinction but little above the plane of the dumb brutesthat serve you! A people without written language, withoutart, without homes, without love; the victim of eons of thehorrible community idea. Owning everything in common,even to your women and children, has resulted in yourowning nothing in common. You hate each other as you hateall else except yourselves. Come back to the ways of ourcommon ancestors, come back to the light of kindlinessand fellowship. The way is open to you, you will find thehands of the red men stretched out to aid you. Together wemay do still more to regenerate our dying planet. The grand-daughter of the greatest and mightiest of the red jeddaks hasasked you. Will you come?"

Lorquas Ptomel and the warriors sat looking silently andintently at the young woman for several moments after shehad ceased speaking. What was passing in their minds noman may know, but that they were moved I truly believe,and if one man high among them had been strong enoughto rise above custom, that moment would have marked anew and mighty era for Mars.

I saw Tars Tarkas rise to speak, and on his face was suchan expression as I had never seen upon the countenance of agreen Martian warrior. It bespoke an inward and mightybattle with self, with heredity, with age-old custom, andas he opened his mouth to speak, a look almost of benignity,of kindliness, momentarily lighted up his fierce and terriblecountenance.

What words of moment were to have fallen from his lipswere never spoken, as just then a young warrior, evidentlysensing the trend of thought among the older men, leapeddown from the steps of the rostrum, and striking the frailcaptive a powerful blow across the face, which felled her tothe floor, placed his foot upon her prostrate form and turningtoward the assembled council broke into peals of horrid,mirthless laughter.

For an instant I thought Tars Tarkas would strike himdead, nor did the aspect of Lorquas Ptomel augur any toofavorably for the brute, but the mood passed, their old selvesreasserted their ascendency, and they smiled. It was portentoushowever that they did not laugh aloud, for the brute's actconstituted a side-splitting witticism according to theethics which rule green Martian humor.

That I have taken moments to write down a part of whatoccurred as that blow fell does not signify that I remainedinactive for any such length of time. I think I must havesensed something of what was coming, for I realize now thatI was crouched as for a spring as I saw the blow aimed ather beautiful, upturned, pleading face, and ere the handdescended I was halfway across the hall.

Scarcely had his hideous laugh rang out but once, whenI was upon him. The brute was twelve feet in height andarmed to the teeth, but I believe that I could have accountedfor the whole roomful in the terrific intensity of my rage.Springing upward, I struck him full in the face as he turnedat my warning cry and then as he drew his short-sword Idrew mine and sprang up again upon his breast, hooking oneleg over the butt of his pistol and grasping one of his hugetusks with my left hand while I delivered blow after blowupon his enormous chest.

He could not use his short-sword to advantage because Iwas too close to him, nor could he draw his pistol, whichhe attempted to do in direct opposition to Martian customwhich says that you may not fight a fellow warrior inprivate combat with any other than the weapon with which youare attacked. In fact he could do nothing but make a wildand futile attempt to dislodge me. With all his immense bulkhe was little if any stronger than I, and it was but the matterof a moment or two before he sank, bleeding and lifeless,to the floor.

Dejah Thoris had raised herself upon one elbow and waswatching the battle with wide, staring eyes. When I hadregained my feet I raised her in my arms and bore her toone of the benches at the side of the room.

Again no Martian interfered with me, and tearing a pieceof silk from my cape I endeavored to staunch the flow ofblood from her nostrils. I was soon successful as herinjuries amounted to little more than an ordinary nosebleed,and when she could speak she placed her hand upon myarm and looking up into my eyes, said:

"Why did you do it? You who refused me even friendly recognitionin the first hour of my peril! And now you risk your life andkill one of your companions for my sake. I cannot understand.What strange manner of man are you, that you consort with thegreen men, though your form is that of my race, while your coloris little darker than that of the white ape? Tell me, are youhuman, or are you more than human?"

"It is a strange tale," I replied, "too long to attempt to tellyou now, and one which I so much doubt the credibility of myselfthat I fear to hope that others will believe it. Suffice it,for the present, that I am your friend, and, so far as ourcaptors will permit, your protector and your servant."

"Then you too are a prisoner? But why, then, those armsand the regalia of a Tharkian chieftain? What is your name?Where your country?"

"Yes, Dejah Thoris, I too am a prisoner; my name is JohnCarter, and I claim Virginia, one of the United States ofAmerica, Earth, as my home; but why I am permitted towear arms I do not know, nor was I aware that my regaliawas that of a chieftain."

We were interrupted at this juncture by the approach of oneof the warriors, bearing arms, accouterments and ornaments,and in a flash one of her questions was answered and apuzzle cleared up for me. I saw that the body of my deadantagonist had been stripped, and I read in the menacingyet respectful attitude of the warrior who had brought methese trophies of the kill the same demeanor as that evincedby the other who had brought me my original equipment, and nowfor the first time I realized that my blow, on the occasion ofmy first battle in the audience chamber had resulted in thedeath of my adversary.

The reason for the whole attitude displayed toward me wasnow apparent; I had won my spurs, so to speak, and in thecrude justice, which always marks Martian dealings, and which,among other things, has caused me to call her the planet ofparadoxes, I was accorded the honors due a conqueror;the trappings and the position of the man I killed.In truth, I was a Martian chieftain, and this I learned laterwas the cause of my great freedom and my toleration in theaudience chamber.

As I had turned to receive the dead warrior's chattels Ihad noticed that Tars Tarkas and several others had pushedforward toward us, and the eyes of the former rested uponme in a most quizzical manner. Finally he addressed me:

"You speak the tongue of Barsoom quite readily for onewho was deaf and dumb to us a few short days ago. Wheredid you learn it, John Carter?"

"You, yourself, are responsible, Tars Tarkas," I replied, "inthat you furnished me with an instructress of remarkableability; I have to thank Sola for my learning."

"She has done well," he answered, "but your education inother respects needs considerable polish. Do you know whatyour unprecedented temerity would have cost you had youfailed to kill either of the two chieftains whose metal younow wear?"

"I presume that that one whom I had failed to kill, wouldhave killed me," I answered, smiling.

"No, you are wrong. Only in the last extremity of self-defensewould a Martian warrior kill a prisoner; we like to save themfor other purposes," and his face bespoke possibilities thatwere not pleasant to dwell upon.

"But one thing can save you now," he continued. "Shouldyou, in recognition of your remarkable valor, ferocity,and prowess, be considered by Tal Hajus as worthy of hisservice you may be taken into the community and become afull-fledged Tharkian. Until we reach the headquarters of TalHajus it is the will of Lorquas Ptomel that you be accordedthe respect your acts have earned you. You will be treated byus as a Tharkian chieftain, but you must not forget that everychief who ranks you is responsible for your safe delivery toour mighty and most ferocious ruler. I am done."

"I hear you, Tars Tarkas," I answered. "As you know Iam not of Barsoom; your ways are not my ways, and I canonly act in the future as I have in the past, in accordancewith the dictates of my conscience and guided by the standardsof mine own people. If you will leave me alone I will goin peace, but if not, let the individual Barsoomians withwhom I must deal either respect my rights as a strangeramong you, or take whatever consequences may befall. Ofone thing let us be sure, whatever may be your ultimateintentions toward this unfortunate young woman, whoeverwould offer her injury or insult in the future must figure onmaking a full accounting to me. I understand that you belittleall sentiments of generosity and kindliness, but I do not,and I can convince your most doughty warrior that thesecharacteristics are not incompatible with an ability to fight."

Ordinarily I am not given to long speeches, nor ever beforehad I descended to bombast, but I had guessed at the keynotewhich would strike an answering chord in the breasts of thegreen Martians, nor was I wrong, for my harangue evidentlydeeply impressed them, and their attitude toward methereafter was still further respectful.

Tars Tarkas himself seemed pleased with my reply, but hisonly comment was more or less enigmatical-- "And I think Iknow Tal Hajus, Jeddak of Thark."

I now turned my attention to Dejah Thoris, and assistingher to her feet I turned with her toward the exit, ignoringher hovering guardian harpies as well as the inquiringglances of the chieftains. Was I not now a chieftain also!Well, then, I would assume the responsibilities of one.They did not molest us, and so Dejah Thoris, Princess ofHelium, and John Carter, gentleman of Virginia, followedby the faithful Woola, passed through utter silence from theaudience chamber of Lorquas Ptomel, Jed among the Tharksof Barsoom.