For an instant the black pirate and I remained motionless,glaring into each other's eyes. Then a grim smile curledthe handsome lips above me, as an ebony hand came slowlyin sight from above the edge of the deck and the cold, holloweye of a revolver sought the centre of my forehead.

Simultaneously my free hand shot out for the black throat,just within reach, and the ebony finger tightened on the trigger. The pirate's hissing, "Die, cursed thern," was half chokedin his windpipe by my clutching fingers. The hammer fellwith a futile click upon an empty chamber.

Before he could fire again I had pulled him so far overthe edge of the deck that he was forced to drop his firearmand clutch the rail with both hands.

My grasp upon his throat effectually prevented any outcry,and so we struggled in grim silence; he to tear away from myhold, I to drag him over to his death.

His face was taking on a livid hue, his eyes were bulgingfrom their sockets. It was evident to him that he soon mustdie unless he tore loose from the steel fingers that werechoking the life from him. With a final effort he threw himselffurther back upon the deck, at the same instant releasing hishold upon the rail to tear frantically with both hands at myfingers in an effort to drag them from his throat.

That little second was all that I awaited. With one mightydownward surge I swept him clear of the deck. His fallingbody came near to tearing me from the frail hold that mysingle free hand had upon the anchor chain and plunging mewith him to the waters of the sea below.

I did not relinquish my grasp upon him, however, for Iknew that a single shriek from those lips as he hurtled to hisdeath in the silent waters of the sea would bring his comradesfrom above to avenge him.

Instead I held grimly to him, choking, ever choking, whilehis frantic struggles dragged me lower and lower toward theend of the chain.

Gradually his contortions became spasmodic, lessening bydegrees until they ceased entirely. Then I released my holdupon him and in an instant he was swallowed by the blackshadows far below.

Again I climbed to the ship's rail. This time I succeeded inraising my eyes to the level of the deck, where I could take acareful survey of the conditions immediately confronting me.

The nearer moon had passed below the horizon, but theclear effulgence of the further satellite bathed the deck of thecruiser, bringing into sharp relief the bodies of six or eightblack men sprawled about in sleep.

Huddled close to the base of a rapid fire gun was a youngwhite girl, securely bound. Her eyes were widespread in anexpression of horrified anticipation and fixed directly uponme as I came in sight above the edge of the deck.

Unutterable relief instantly filled them as they fell upon themystic jewel which sparkled in the centre of my stolen headpiece.She did not speak. Instead her eyes warned me to beware thesleeping figures that surrounded her.

Noiselessly I gained the deck. The girl nodded to me to approach her.As I bent low she whispered to me to release her.

"I can aid you," she said, "and you will need all the aidavailable when they awaken."

"Some of them will awake in Korus," I replied smiling.

She caught the meaning of my words, and the cruelty ofher answering smile horrified me. One is not astonished bycruelty in a hideous face, but when it touches the features ofa goddess whose fine-chiselled lineaments might more fittinglyportray love and beauty, the contrast is appalling.

Quickly I released her.

"Give me a revolver," she whispered. "I can use that uponthose your sword does not silence in time."

I did as she bid. Then I turned toward the distasteful workthat lay before me. This was no time for fine compunctions,nor for a chivalry that these cruel demons would neitherappreciate nor reciprocate.

Stealthily I approached the nearest sleeper. When heawoke he was well on his journey to the bosom of Korus.His piercing shriek as consciousness returned to him camefaintly up to us from the black depths beneath.

The second awoke as I touched him, and, though I succeededin hurling him from the cruiser's deck, his wild cry of alarmbrought the remaining pirates to their feet. There were five of them.

As they arose the girl's revolver spoke in sharp staccatoand one sank back to the deck again to rise no more.

The others rushed madly upon me with drawn swords. The girlevidently dared not fire for fear of wounding me, but I saw hersneak stealthily and cat-like toward the flank of the attackers.Then they were on me.

For a few minutes I experienced some of the hottest fighting I hadever passed through. The quarters were too small for foot work.It was stand your ground and give and take. At first I tookconsiderably more than I gave, but presently I got beneath onefellow's guard and had the satisfaction of seeing him collapseupon the deck.

The others redoubled their efforts. The crashing of theirblades upon mine raised a terrific din that might have beenheard for miles through the silent night. Sparks flew as steelsmote steel, and then there was the dull and sickening sound of ashoulder bone parting beneath the keen edge of my Martian sword.

Three now faced me, but the girl was working her way toa point that would soon permit her to reduce the number byone at least. Then things happened with such amazingrapidity that I can scarce comprehend even now all that tookplace in that brief instant.

The three rushed me with the evident purpose of forcingme back the few steps that would carry my body over therail into the void below. At the same instant the girl firedand my sword arm made two moves. One man dropped witha bullet in his brain; a sword flew clattering across the deckand dropped over the edge beyond as I disarmed one of myopponents and the third went down with my blade buried tothe hilt in his breast and three feet of it protruding from hisback, and falling wrenched the sword from my grasp.

Disarmed myself, I now faced my remaining foeman,whose own sword lay somewhere thousands of feet below us,lost in the Lost Sea.

The new conditions seemed to please my adversary, for asmile of satisfaction bared his gleaming teeth as he rushedat me bare-handed. The great muscles which rolled beneath hisglossy black hide evidently assured him that here was easyprey, not worth the trouble of drawing the dagger from his harness.

I let him come almost upon me. Then I ducked beneath hisoutstretched arms, at the same time sidestepping to the right.Pivoting on my left toe, I swung a terrific right to his jaw,and, like a felled ox, he dropped in his tracks.

A low, silvery laugh rang out behind me.

"You are no thern," said the sweet voice of my companion,"for all your golden locks or the harness of Sator Throg.Never lived there upon all Barsoom before one whocould fight as you have fought this night. Who are you?"

"I am John Carter, Prince of the House of TardosMors, Jeddak of Helium," I replied. "And whom," I added,"has the honour of serving been accorded me?"

She hesitated a moment before speaking. Then she asked:

"You are no thern. Are you an enemy of the therns?"

"I have been in the territory of the therns for a day and a half.During that entire time my life has been in constant danger. I have been harassed and persecuted. Armed men and fierce beastshave been set upon me. I had no quarrel with the therns before,but can you wonder that I feel no great love for them now?I have spoken."

She looked at me intently for several minutes before she replied.It was as though she were attempting to read my inmost soul,to judge my character and my standards of chivalry in thatlong-drawn, searching gaze.

Apparently the inventory satisfied her.

"I am Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang, Holy Hekkador of theHoly Therns, Father of Therns, Master of Life and Deathupon Barsoom, Brother of Issus, Prince of Life Eternal."

At that moment I noticed that the black I had dropped withmy fist was commencing to show signs of returning consciousness. I sprang to his side. Stripping his harness from him I securelybound his hands behind his back, and after similarly fasteninghis feet tied him to a heavy gun carriage.

"Why not the simpler way?" asked Phaidor.

"I do not understand. What 'simpler way'?" I replied.

With a slight shrug of her lovely shoulders she made agesture with her hands personating the casting of somethingover the craft's side.

"I am no murderer," I said. "I kill in self-defence only."

She looked at me narrowly. Then she puckered those divinebrows of hers, and shook her head. She could not comprehend.

Well, neither had my own Dejah Thoris been able tounderstand what to her had seemed a foolish and dangerouspolicy toward enemies. Upon Barsoom, quarter is neitherasked nor given, and each dead man means so much moreof the waning resources of this dying planet to be dividedamongst those who survive.

But there seemed a subtle difference here between the mannerin which this girl contemplated the dispatching of an enemyand the tender-hearted regret of my own princess for thestern necessity which demanded it.

I think that Phaidor regretted the thrill that the spectaclewould have afforded her rather than the fact that my decisionleft another enemy alive to threaten us.

The man had now regained full possession of his faculties,and was regarding us intently from where he lay bound uponthe deck. He was a handsome fellow, clean limbed and powerful,with an intelligent face and features of such exquisite chisellingthat Adonis himself might have envied him.

The vessel, unguided, had been moving slowly across the valley;but now I thought it time to take the helm and direct her course.Only in a very general way could I guess the location of the Valley Dor.That it was far south of the equator was evident from the constellations,but I was not sufficiently a Martian astronomer to come much closer thana rough guess without the splendid charts and delicate instrumentswith which, as an officer in the Heliumite Navy, I had formerly reckonedthe positions of the vessels on which I sailed.

That a northerly course would quickest lead me toward themore settled portions of the planet immediately decidedthe direction that I should steer. Beneath my hand the cruiserswung gracefully about. Then the button which controlledthe repulsive rays sent us soaring far out into space.With speed lever pulled to the last notch, we raced towardthe north as we rose ever farther and farther above thatterrible valley of death.

As we passed at a dizzy height over the narrow domainsof the therns the flash of powder far below bore mutewitness to the ferocity of the battle that still raged alongthat cruel frontier. No sound of conflict reached our ears,for in the rarefied atmosphere of our great altitude no sound wavecould penetrate; they were dissipated in thin air far below us.

It became intensely cold. Breathing was difficult. The girl,Phaidor, and the black pirate kept their eyes glued upon me.At length the girl spoke.

"Unconsciousness comes quickly at this altitude," she said quietly."Unless you are inviting death for us all you had best drop,and that quickly."

There was no fear in her voice. It was as one might say:"You had better carry an umbrella. It is going to rain."

I dropped the vessel quickly to a lower level. Nor was I amoment too soon. The girl had swooned.

The black, too, was unconscious, while I, myself, retainedmy senses, I think, only by sheer will. The one on whom allresponsibility rests is apt to endure the most.

We were swinging along low above the foothills of theOtz. It was comparatively warm and there was plenty of airfor our starved lungs, so I was not surprised to see theblack open his eyes, and a moment later the girl also.

"It was a close call," she said.

"It has taught me two things though," I replied.

"What?"

"That even Phaidor, daughter of the Master of Life andDeath, is mortal," I said smiling.

"There is immortality only in Issus," she replied. "And Issusis for the race of therns alone. Thus am I immortal."

I caught a fleeting grin passing across the features of theblack as he heard her words. I did not then understand whyhe smiled. Later I was to learn, and she, too, in a mosthorrible manner.

"If the other thing you have just learned," she continued,"has led to as erroneous deductions as the first you are littlericher in knowledge than you were before."

"The other," I replied, "is that our dusky friend here doesnot hail from the nearer moon--he was like to have died ata few thousand feet above Barsoom. Had we continued thefive thousand miles that lie between Thuria and the planethe would have been but the frozen memory of a man."

Phaidor looked at the black in evident astonishment.

"If you are not of Thuria, then where?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and turned his eyes elsewhere,but did not reply.

The girl stamped her little foot in a peremptory manner.

"The daughter of Matai Shang is not accustomed to having herqueries remain unanswered," she said. "One of the lesser breedshould feel honoured that a member of the holy race that was bornto inherit life eternal should deign even to notice him."

Again the black smiled that wicked, knowing smile.

"Xodar, Dator of the First Born of Barsoom, is accustomed togive commands, not to receive them," replied the black pirate.Then, turning to me, "What are your intentions concerning me?"

"I intend taking you both back to Helium," I said."No harm will come to you. You will find the red men ofHelium a kindly and magnanimous race, but if they listen tome there will be no more voluntary pilgrimages down theriver Iss, and the impossible belief that they have cherishedfor ages will be shattered into a thousand pieces."

"Are you of Helium?" he asked.

"I am a Prince of the House of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium,"I replied, "but I am not of Barsoom. I am of another world."

Xodar looked at me intently for a few moments.

"I can well believe that you are not of Barsoom," he saidat length. "None of this world could have bested eight of theFirst Born single-handed. But how is it that you wear thegolden hair and the jewelled circlet of a Holy Thern?" Heemphasized the word holy with a touch of irony.

"I had forgotten them," I said. "They are the spoils ofconquest," and with a sweep of my hand I removed thedisguise from my head.

When the black's eyes fell on my close-cropped black hairthey opened in astonishment. Evidently he had looked forthe bald pate of a thern.

"You are indeed of another world," he said, a touch ofawe in his voice. "With the skin of a thern, the black hair ofa First Born and the muscles of a dozen Dators it was nodisgrace even for Xodar to acknowledge your supremacy.A thing he could never do were you a Barsoomian," he added.

"You are travelling several laps ahead of me, my friend,"I interrupted. "I glean that your name is Xodar, but whom,pray, are the First Born, and what a Dator, and why, if youwere conquered by a Barsoomian, could you not acknowledge it?"

"The First Born of Barsoom," he explained, "are the raceof black men of which I am a Dator, or, as the lesserBarsoomians would say, Prince. My race is the oldeston the planet. We trace our lineage, unbroken, direct tothe Tree of Life which flourished in the centre of theValley Dor twenty-three million years ago.

"For countless ages the fruit of this tree underwent thegradual changes of evolution, passing by degrees from trueplant life to a combination of plant and animal. In the firststages the fruit of the tree possessed only the power ofindependent muscular action, while the stem remained attachedto the parent plant; later a brain developed in the fruit, sothat hanging there by their long stems they thought andmoved as individuals.

"Then, with the development of perceptions came a comparisonof them; judgments were reached and compared, and thus reasonand the power to reason were born upon Barsoom.

"Ages passed. Many forms of life came and went uponthe Tree of Life, but still all were attached to the parentplant by stems of varying lengths. At length the fruit treeconsisted in tiny plant men, such as we now see reproducedin such huge dimensions in the Valley Dor, but still hangingto the limbs and branches of the tree by the stems whichgrew from the tops of their heads.

"The buds from which the plant men blossomed resembledlarge nuts about a foot in diameter, divided by doublepartition walls into four sections. In one section grew the plantman, in another a sixteen-legged worm, in the third theprogenitor of the white ape and in the fourth the primaevalblack man of Barsoom.

"When the bud burst the plant man remained dangling atthe end of his stem, but the three other sections fell to theground, where the efforts of their imprisoned occupants toescape sent them hopping about in all directions.

"Thus as time went on, all Barsoom was covered withthese imprisoned creatures. For countless ages they lived theirlong lives within their hard shells, hopping and skipping aboutthe broad planet; falling into rivers, lakes, and seas, to be stillfurther spread about the surface of the new world.

"Countless billions died before the first black man brokethrough his prison walls into the light of day. Prompted bycuriosity, he broke open other shells and the peopling ofBarsoom commenced.

"The pure strain of the blood of this first black man hasremained untainted by admixture with other creatures in therace of which I am a member; but from the sixteen-leggedworm, the first ape and renegade black man has sprung everyother form of animal life upon Barsoom.

"The therns," and he smiled maliciously as he spoke, "arebut the result of ages of evolution from the pure white apeof antiquity. They are a lower order still. There is but onerace of true and immortal humans on Barsoom. It is therace of black men.

"The Tree of Life is dead, but before it died the plantmen learned to detach themselves from it and roam the faceof Barsoom with the other children of the First Parent.

"Now their bisexuality permits them to reproduce themselvesafter the manner of true plants, but otherwise they haveprogressed but little in all the ages of their existence.Their actions and movements are largely matters of instinctand not guided to any great extent by reason, since the brainof a plant man is but a trifle larger than the end of yoursmallest finger. They live upon vegetation and the blood ofanimals, and their brain is just large enough to direct theirmovements in the direction of food, and to translate the foodsensations which are carried to it from their eyes and ears.They have no sense of self-preservation and so are entirelywithout fear in the face of danger. That is why they are suchterrible antagonists in combat."

I wondered why the black man took such pains to discoursethus at length to enemies upon the genesis of life Barsoomian.It seemed a strangely inopportune moment for a proud memberof a proud race to unbend in casual conversation with a captor.Especially in view of the fact that the black still lay securelybound upon the deck.

It was the faintest straying of his eye beyond me for thebarest fraction of a second that explained his motive forthus dragging out my interest in his truly absorbing story.

He lay a little forward of where I stood at the levers, andthus he faced the stern of the vessel as he addressed me. Itwas at the end of his description of the plant men that Icaught his eye fixed momentarily upon something behind me.

Nor could I be mistaken in the swift gleam of triumphthat brightened those dark orbs for an instant.

Some time before I had reduced our speed, for we had left theValley Dor many miles astern, and I felt comparatively safe.

I turned an apprehensive glance behind me, and the sightthat I saw froze the new-born hope of freedom that had beenspringing up within me.

A great battleship, forging silent and unlighted through thedark night, loomed close astern.