It must have been several hours before I regained consciousnessand I well remember the feeling of surprise which swept over meas I realized that I was not dead.

I was lying among a pile of sleeping silks and furs in thecorner of a small room in which were several green warriors,and bending over me was an ancient and ugly female.

As I opened my eyes she turned to one of the warriors, saying,

"He will live, O Jed."

"'Tis well," replied the one so addressed, rising and approachingmy couch, "he should render rare sport for the great games."

And now as my eyes fell upon him, I saw that he was noThark, for his ornaments and metal were not of that horde.He was a huge fellow, terribly scarred about the face andchest, and with one broken tusk and a missing ear. Strappedon either breast were human skulls and depending fromthese a number of dried human hands.

His reference to the great games of which I had heard somuch while among the Tharks convinced me that I had butjumped from purgatory into gehenna.

After a few more words with the female, during whichshe assured him that I was now fully fit to travel, the jedordered that we mount and ride after the main column.

I was strapped securely to as wild and unmanageable athoat as I had ever seen, and, with a mounted warrior oneither side to prevent the beast from bolting, we rode forthat a furious pace in pursuit of the column. My wounds gaveme but little pain, so wonderfully and rapidly had theapplications and injections of the female exercised theirtherapeutic powers, and so deftly had she bound and plasteredthe injuries.

Just before dark we reached the main body of troopsshortly after they had made camp for the night. I wasimmediately taken before the leader, who proved to be thejeddak of the hordes of Warhoon.

Like the jed who had brought me, he was frightfullyscarred, and also decorated with the breastplate of humanskulls and dried dead hands which seemed to mark all thegreater warriors among the Warhoons, as well as to indicatetheir awful ferocity, which greatly transcends even that ofthe Tharks.

The jeddak, Bar Comas, who was comparatively young,was the object of the fierce and jealous hatred of his oldlieutenant, Dak Kova, the jed who had captured me, and Icould not but note the almost studied efforts which thelatter made to affront his superior.

He entirely omitted the usual formal salutation as we enteredthe presence of the jeddak, and as he pushed me roughly beforethe ruler he exclaimed in a loud and menacing voice.

"I have brought a strange creature wearing the metal of aThark whom it is my pleasure to have battle with a wildthoat at the great games."

"He will die as Bar Comas, your jeddak, sees fit, if at all,"replied the young ruler, with emphasis and dignity.

"If at all?" roared Dak Kova. "By the dead hands at mythroat but he shall die, Bar Comas. No maudlin weaknesson your part shall save him. O, would that Warhoon wereruled by a real jeddak rather than by a water-heartedweakling from whom even old Dak Kova could tear the metalwith his bare hands!"

Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain foran instant, his expression one of haughty, fearless contemptand hate, and then without drawing a weapon and withoututtering a word he hurled himself at the throat of his defamer.

I never before had seen two green Martian warriors battlewith nature's weapons and the exhibition of animal ferocitywhich ensued was as fearful a thing as the most disorderedimagination could picture. They tore at each others' eyesand ears with their hands and with their gleaming tusksrepeatedly slashed and gored until both were cut fairly toribbons from head to foot.

Bar Comas had much the better of the battle as he wasstronger, quicker and more intelligent. It soon seemed thatthe encounter was done saving only the final death thrustwhen Bar Comas slipped in breaking away from a clinch. Itwas the one little opening that Dak Kova needed, and hurlinghimself at the body of his adversary he buried his singlemighty tusk in Bar Comas' groin and with a last powerfuleffort ripped the young jeddak wide open the full length ofhis body, the great tusk finally wedging in the bones of BarComas' jaw. Victor and vanquished rolled limp and lifelessupon the moss, a huge mass of torn and bloody flesh.

Bar Comas was stone dead, and only the most herculean efforts onthe part of Dak Kova's females saved him from the fate he deserved.Three days later he walked without assistance to the body of BarComas which, by custom, had not been moved from where it fell,and placing his foot upon the neck of his erstwhile ruler heassumed the title of Jeddak of Warhoon.

The dead jeddak's hands and head were removed to be addedto the ornaments of his conqueror, and then his womencremated what remained, amid wild and terrible laughter.

The injuries to Dak Kova had delayed the march sogreatly that it was decided to give up the expedition, whichwas a raid upon a small Thark community in retaliation forthe destruction of the incubator, until after the great games,and the entire body of warriors, ten thousand in number,turned back toward Warhoon.

My introduction to these cruel and bloodthirsty peoplewas but an index to the scenes I witnessed almost dailywhile with them. They are a smaller horde than the Tharksbut much more ferocious. Not a day passed but that somemembers of the various Warhoon communities met in deadlycombat. I have seen as high as eight mortal duels within asingle day.

We reached the city of Warhoon after some three daysmarch and I was immediately cast into a dungeon and heavilychained to the floor and walls. Food was brought me atintervals but owing to the utter darkness of the place I do notknow whether I lay there days, or weeks, or months. It wasthe most horrible experience of all my life and that mymind did not give way to the terrors of that inky blacknesshas been a wonder to me ever since. The place was filledwith creeping, crawling things; cold, sinuous bodies passedover me when I lay down, and in the darkness I occasionallycaught glimpses of gleaming, fiery eyes, fixed in horribleintentness upon me. No sound reached me from the worldabove and no word would my jailer vouchsafe when myfood was brought to me, although I at first bombarded himwith questions.

Finally all the hatred and maniacal loathing for theseawful creatures who had placed me in this horrible place wascentered by my tottering reason upon this single emissarywho represented to me the entire horde of Warhoons.

I had noticed that he always advanced with his dimtorch to where he could place the food within my reach andas he stooped to place it upon the floor his head was abouton a level with my breast. So, with the cunning of a madman,I backed into the far corner of my cell when next I heardhim approaching and gathering a little slack of the greatchain which held me in my hand I waited his coming,crouching like some beast of prey. As he stooped to placemy food upon the ground I swung the chain above my headand crashed the links with all my strength upon his skull.Without a sound he slipped to the floor, stone dead.

Laughing and chattering like the idiot I was fast becomingI fell upon his prostrate form my fingers feeling for hisdead throat. Presently they came in contact with a smallchain at the end of which dangled a number of keys. Thetouch of my fingers on these keys brought back my reasonwith the suddenness of thought. No longer was I a jibberingidiot, but a sane, reasoning man with the means of escapewithin my very hands.

As I was groping to remove the chain from about my victim'sneck I glanced up into the darkness to see six pairs of gleamingeyes fixed, unwinking, upon me. Slowly they approached and slowlyI shrank back from the awful horror of them. Back into my cornerI crouched holding my hands palms out, before me, and stealthilyon came the awful eyes until they reached the dead body at my feet.Then slowly they retreated but this time with a strange gratingsound and finally they disappeared in some black and distant recessof my dungeon.