Following the battle with the air ships, the communityremained within the city for several days, abandoning thehomeward march until they could feel reasonably assuredthat the ships would not return; for to be caught on theopen plains with a cavalcade of chariots and children wasfar from the desire of even so warlike a people as the greenMartians.

During our period of inactivity, Tars Tarkas had instructedme in many of the customs and arts of war familiar to theTharks, including lessons in riding and guiding the greatbeasts which bore the warriors. These creatures, which areknown as thoats, are as dangerous and vicious as their masters,but when once subdued are sufficiently tractable for thepurposes of the green Martians.

Two of these animals had fallen to me from the warriorswhose metal I wore, and in a short time I could handle themquite as well as the native warriors. The method was not atall complicated. If the thoats did not respond with sufficientcelerity to the telepathic instructions of their riders theywere dealt a terrific blow between the ears with the butt of apistol, and if they showed fight this treatment was continueduntil the brutes either were subdued, or had unseated theirriders.

In the latter case it became a life and death strugglebetween the man and the beast. If the former were quickenough with his pistol he might live to ride again, thoughupon some other beast; if not, his torn and mangled bodywas gathered up by his women and burned in accordancewith Tharkian custom.

My experience with Woola determined me to attempt theexperiment of kindness in my treatment of my thoats. First Itaught them that they could not unseat me, and even rappedthem sharply between the ears to impress upon them myauthority and mastery. Then, by degrees, I won theirconfidence in much the same manner as I had adopted countlesstimes with my many mundane mounts. I was ever a good handwith animals, and by inclination, as well as becauseit brought more lasting and satisfactory results, I wasalways kind and humane in my dealings with the lower orders.I could take a human life, if necessary, with far less compunctionthan that of a poor, unreasoning, irresponsible brute.

In the course of a few days my thoats were the wonderof the entire community. They would follow me like dogs,rubbing their great snouts against my body in awkward evidenceof affection, and respond to my every command with an alacrityand docility which caused the Martian warriors to ascribe to methe possession of some earthly power unknown on Mars.

"How have you bewitched them?" asked Tars Tarkas oneafternoon, when he had seen me run my arm far betweenthe great jaws of one of my thoats which had wedged apiece of stone between two of his teeth while feeding uponthe moss-like vegetation within our court yard.

"By kindness," I replied. "You see, Tars Tarkas, the softersentiments have their value, even to a warrior. In the heightof battle as well as upon the march I know that my thoatswill obey my every command, and therefore my fightingefficiency is enhanced, and I am a better warrior for thereason that I am a kind master. Your other warriors would findit to the advantage of themselves as well as of the communityto adopt my methods in this respect. Only a few days since you,yourself, told me that these great brutes, by the uncertaintyof their tempers, often were the means of turning victoryinto defeat, since, at a crucial moment, they might electto unseat and rend their riders."

"Show me how you accomplish these results," was Tars Tarkas'only rejoinder.

And so I explained as carefully as I could the entiremethod of training I had adopted with my beasts, and laterhe had me repeat it before Lorquas Ptomel and the assembledwarriors. That moment marked the beginning of a new existencefor the poor thoats, and before I left the community ofLorquas Ptomel I had the satisfaction of observing a regimentof as tractable and docile mounts as one might care tosee. The effect on the precision and celerity of the militarymovements was so remarkable that Lorquas Ptomel presentedme with a massive anklet of gold from his own leg, as a signof his appreciation of my service to the horde.

On the seventh day following the battle with the air craftwe again took up the march toward Thark, all probability ofanother attack being deemed remote by Lorquas Ptomel.

During the days just preceding our departure I had seenbut little of Dejah Thoris, as I had been kept very busy byTars Tarkas with my lessons in the art of Martian warfare,as well as in the training of my thoats. The few times I hadvisited her quarters she had been absent, walking upon thestreets with Sola, or investigating the buildings in the nearvicinity of the plaza. I had warned them against venturingfar from the plaza for fear of the great white apes, whoseferocity I was only too well acquainted with. However, sinceWoola accompanied them on all their excursions, and asSola was well armed, there was comparatively little cause forfear.

On the evening before our departure I saw them approachingalong one of the great avenues which lead into theplaza from the east. I advanced to meet them, and tellingSola that I would take the responsibility for Dejah Thoris'safekeeping, I directed her to return to her quarters on sometrivial errand. I liked and trusted Sola, but for some reason Idesired to be alone with Dejah Thoris, who represented tome all that I had left behind upon Earth in agreeable andcongenial companionship. There seemed bonds of mutualinterest between us as powerful as though we had been bornunder the same roof rather than upon different planets,hurtling through space some forty-eight million miles apart.

That she shared my sentiments in this respect I was positive,for on my approach the look of pitiful hopelessness lefther sweet countenance to be replaced by a smile of joyfulwelcome, as she placed her little right hand upon my leftshoulder in true red Martian salute.

"Sarkoja told Sola that you had become a true Thark," shesaid, "and that I would now see no more of you than of anyof the other warriors."

"Sarkoja is a liar of the first magnitude," I replied,"notwithstanding the proud claim of the Tharks toabsolute verity."

Dejah Thoris laughed.

"I knew that even though you became a member of thecommunity you would not cease to be my friend; 'A warriormay change his metal, but not his heart,' as the sayingis upon Barsoom."

"I think they have been trying to keep us apart," shecontinued, "for whenever you have been off duty one of theolder women of Tars Tarkas' retinue has always arranged totrump up some excuse to get Sola and me out of sight.They have had me down in the pits below the buildingshelping them mix their awful radium powder, and make theirterrible projectiles. You know that these have to bemanufactured by artificial light, as exposure to sunlight alwaysresults in an explosion. You have noticed that their bulletsexplode when they strike an object? Well, the opaque, outercoating is broken by the impact, exposing a glass cylinder,almost solid, in the forward end of which is a minute particleof radium powder. The moment the sunlight, even thoughdiffused, strikes this powder it explodes with a violence whichnothing can withstand. If you ever witness a night battleyou will note the absence of these explosions, while themorning following the battle will be filled at sunrise with thesharp detonations of exploding missiles fired the precedingnight. As a rule, however, non-exploding projectiles are usedat night."1

While I was much interested in Dejah Thoris' explanationof this wonderful adjunct to Martian warfare, I was moreconcerned by the immediate problem of their treatment ofher. That they were keeping her away from me was not amatter for surprise, but that they should subject her todangerous and arduous labor filled me with rage.

"Have they ever subjected you to cruelty and ignominy,Dejah Thoris?" I asked, feeling the hot blood of my fightingancestors leap in my veins as I awaited her reply.

"Only in little ways, John Carter," she answered. "Nothingthat can harm me outside my pride. They know that I amthe daughter of ten thousand jeddaks, that I trace myancestry straight back without a break to the builder ofthe first great waterway, and they, who do not even knowtheir own mothers, are jealous of me. At heart they hatetheir horrid fates, and so wreak their poor spite on me whostand for everything they have not, and for all they mostcrave and never can attain. Let us pity them, my chieftain,for even though we die at their hands we can afford thempity, since we are greater than they and they know it."

Had I known the significance of those words "my chieftain,"as applied by a red Martian woman to a man, I should havehad the surprise of my life, but I did not know at that time,nor for many months thereafter. Yes, I still had much tolearn upon Barsoom.

"I presume it is the better part of wisdom that we bow toour fate with as good grace as possible, Dejah Thoris; but Ihope, nevertheless, that I may be present the next time thatany Martian, green, red, pink, or violet, has the temerity toeven so much as frown on you, my princess."

Dejah Thoris caught her breath at my last words, and

I have used the word radium in describing this powder because inthe light of recent discoveries on Earth I believe it to be a mixture ofwhich radium is the base. In Captain Carter's manuscript it is mentionedalways by the name used in the written language of Helium and isspelled in hieroglyphics which it would be difficult and useless toreproduce.

gazed upon me with dilated eyes and quickening breath, andthen, with an odd little laugh, which brought roguish dimplesto the corners of her mouth, she shook her head and cried:

"What a child! A great warrior and yet a stumbling littlechild."

"What have I done now?" I asked, in sore perplexity.

"Some day you shall know, John Carter, if we live; butI may not tell you. And I, the daughter of Mors Kajak, son ofTardos Mors, have listened without anger," she soliloquizedin conclusion.

Then she broke out again into one of her gay, happy, laughing moods;joking with me on my prowess as a Thark warrior as contrasted withmy soft heart and natural kindliness.

"I presume that should you accidentally wound an enemyyou would take him home and nurse him back to health,"she laughed.

"That is precisely what we do on Earth," I answered."At least among civilized men."

This made her laugh again. She could not understand it,for, with all her tenderness and womanly sweetness, she wasstill a Martian, and to a Martian the only good enemy is adead enemy; for every dead foeman means so much more todivide between those who live.

I was very curious to know what I had said or done tocause her so much perturbation a moment before and so Icontinued to importune her to enlighten me.

"No," she exclaimed, "it is enough that you have said itand that I have listened. And when you learn, John Carter,and if I be dead, as likely I shall be ere the furthermoon has circled Barsoom another twelve times, rememberthat I listened and that I--smiled."

It was all Greek to me, but the more I begged her toexplain the more positive became her denials of my request,and, so, in very hopelessness, I desisted.

Day had now given away to night and as we wanderedalong the great avenue lighted by the two moons ofBarsoom, and with Earth looking down upon us out of herluminous green eye, it seemed that we were alone in theuniverse, and I, at least, was content that it should be so.

The chill of the Martian night was upon us, and removingmy silks I threw them across the shoulders of DejahThoris. As my arm rested for an instant upon her I felt athrill pass through every fiber of my being such as contactwith no other mortal had even produced; and it seemed tome that she had leaned slightly toward me, but of that Iwas not sure. Only I knew that as my arm rested thereacross her shoulders longer than the act of adjusting thesilk required she did not draw away, nor did she speak.And so, in silence, we walked the surface of a dying world,but in the breast of one of us at least had been born thatwhich is ever oldest, yet ever new.

I loved Dejah Thoris. The touch of my arm upon her nakedshoulder had spoken to me in words I would not mistake,and I knew that I had loved her since the first momentthat my eyes had met hers that first time in the plazaof the dead city of Korad.