The gods of Mars
as utter as the silence of the tomb.
Quickly I realized that the warriors had taken one of the other
corridors with their prisoner, and so I hastened back with a feeling of
considerable relief to take up a much safer and more desirable position
behind them. It was much slower work returning, however, than it had
been coming, for now the darkness was as utter as the silence.
It was necessary to feel every foot of the way back with my hand
against the side wall, that I might not pass the spot where the five
roads radiated. After what seemed an eternity to me, I reached the
place and recognized it by groping across the entrances to the several
corridors until I had counted five of them. In not one, however, showed
the faintest sign of light.
I listened intently, but the naked feet of the green men sent back no
guiding echoes, though presently I thought I detected the clank of side
arms in the far distance of the middle corridor. Up this, then, I
hastened, searching for the light, and stopping to listen occasionally
for a repetition of the sound; but soon I was forced to admit that I
must have been following a blind lead, as only darkness and silence
rewarded my efforts.
Again I retraced my steps toward the parting of the ways, when to my
surprise I came upon the entrance to three diverging corridors, any one
of which I might have traversed in my hasty dash after the false clue I
had been following. Here was a pretty fix, indeed! Once back at the
point where the five passageways met, I might wait with some assurance
for the return of the warriors with Tars Tarkas. My knowledge of their
customs lent colour to the belief that he was but being escorted to the
audience chamber to have sentence passed upon him. I had not the
slightest doubt but that they would preserve so doughty a warrior as
the great Thark for the rare sport he would furnish at the Great Games.
But unless I could find my way back to that point the chances were most
excellent that I would wander for days through the awful blackness,
until, overcome by thirst and hunger, I lay down to die, or—What was
that!
A faint shuffling sounded behind me, and as I cast a hasty glance over
my shoulder my blood froze in my veins for the thing I saw there. It
was not so much fear of the present danger as it was the horrifying
memories it recalled of that time I near went mad over the corpse of
the man I had killed in the dungeons of the Warhoons, when blazing eyes
came out of the dark recesses and dragged the thing that had been a man
from my clutches and I heard it scraping over the stone of my prison as
they bore it away to their terrible feast.
And now in these black pits of the other Warhoons I looked into those
same fiery eyes, blazing at me through the terrible darkness, revealing
no sign of the beast behind them. I think that the most fearsome
attribute of these awesome creatures is their silence and the fact that
one never sees them—nothing but those baleful eyes glaring unblinkingly
out of the dark void behind.
Grasping my long-sword tightly in my hand, I backed slowly along the
corridor away from the thing that watched me, but ever as I retreated
the eyes advanced, nor was there any sound, not even the sound of
breathing, except the occasional shuffling sound as of the dragging of
a dead limb, that had first attracted my attention.
On and on I went, but I could not escape my sinister pursuer. Suddenly
I heard the shuffling noise at my right, and, looking, saw another pair
of eyes, evidently approaching from an intersecting corridor. As I
started to renew my slow retreat I heard the noise repeated behind me,
and then before I could turn I heard it again at my left.
The things were all about me. They had me surrounded at the
intersection of two corridors. Retreat was cut off in all directions,
unless I chose to charge one of the beasts. Even then I had no doubt
but that the others would hurl themselves upon my back. I could not
even guess the size or nature of the weird creatures. That they were of
goodly proportions I guessed from the fact that the eyes were on a
level with my own.
Why is it that darkness so magnifies our dangers? By day I would have
charged the great banth itself, had I thought it necessary, but hemmed
in by the darkness of these silent pits I hesitated before a pair of
eyes.
Soon I saw that the matter shortly would be taken entirely from my
hands, for the eyes at my right were moving slowly nearer me, as were
those at my left and those behind and before me. Gradually they were
closing in upon me—but still that awful stealthy silence!
For what seemed hours the eyes approached gradually closer and closer,
until I felt that I should go mad for the horror of it. I had been
constantly turning this way and that to prevent any sudden rush from
behind, until I was fairly worn out. At length I could endure it no
longer, and, taking a fresh grasp upon my long-sword, I turned suddenly
and charged down upon one of my tormentors.
As I was almost upon it the thing retreated before me, but a sound from
behind caused me to wheel in time to see three pairs of eyes rushing at
me from the rear. With a cry of rage I turned to meet the cowardly
beasts, but as I advanced they retreated as had their fellow. Another
glance over my shoulder discovered the first eyes sneaking on me again.
And again I charged, only to see the eyes retreat before me and hear
the muffled rush of the three at my back.
Thus we continued, the eyes always a little closer in the end than they
had been before, until I thought that I should go mad with the terrible
strain of the ordeal. That they were waiting to spring upon my back
seemed evident, and that it would not be long before they succeeded was
equally apparent, for I could not endure the wear of this repeated
charge and countercharge indefinitely. In fact, I could feel myself
weakening from the mental and physical strain I had been undergoing.
At that moment I caught another glimpse from the corner of my eye of
the single pair of eyes at my back making a sudden rush upon me. I
turned to meet the charge; there was a quick rush of the three from the
other direction; but I determined to pursue the single pair until I
should have at least settled my account with one of the beasts and thus
be relieved of the strain of meeting attacks from both directions.
There was no sound in the corridor, only that of my own breathing, yet
I knew that those three uncanny creatures were almost upon me. The eyes
in front were not retreating so rapidly now; I was almost within sword
reach of them. I raised my sword arm to deal the blow that should free
me, and then I felt a heavy body upon my back. A cold, moist, slimy
something fastened itself upon my throat. I stumbled and went down.
CHAPTER XV
FLIGHT AND PURSUIT
I could not have been unconscious more than a few seconds, and yet I
know that I was unconscious, for the next thing I realized was that a
growing radiance was illuminating the corridor about me and the eyes
were gone.
I was unharmed except for a slight bruise upon my forehead where it had
struck the stone flagging as I fell.
I sprang to my feet to ascertain the cause of the light. It came from a
torch in the hand of one of a party of four green warriors, who were
coming rapidly down the corridor toward me. They had not yet seen me,
and so I lost no time in slipping into the first intersecting corridor
that I could find. This time, however, I did not advance so far away
from the main corridor as on the other occasion that had resulted in my
losing Tars Tarkas and his guards.
The party came rapidly toward the opening of the passageway in which I
crouched against the wall. As they passed by I breathed a sigh of
relief. I had not been discovered, and, best of all, the party was the
same that I had followed into the pits. It consisted of Tars Tarkas and
his three guards.
I fell in behind them and soon we were at the cell in which the great
Thark had been chained. Two of the warriors remained without while the
man with the keys entered with the Thark to fasten his irons upon him
once more. The two outside started to stroll slowly in the direction of
the spiral runway which led to the floors above, and in a moment were
lost to view beyond a turn in the corridor.
The torch had been stuck in a socket beside the door, so that its rays
illuminated both the corridor and the cell at the same time. As I saw
the two warriors disappear I approached the entrance to the cell, with
a well-defined plan already formulated.
While I disliked the thought of carrying out the thing that I had
decided upon, there seemed no alternative if Tars Tarkas and I were to
go back together to my little camp in the hills.
Keeping near the wall, I came quite close to the door to Tars Tarkas’
cell, and there I stood with my longsword above my head, grasped with
both hands, that I might bring it down in one quick cut upon the skull
of the jailer as he emerged.
I dislike to dwell upon what followed after I heard the footsteps of
the man as he approached the doorway. It is enough that within another
minute or two, Tars Tarkas, wearing the metal of a Warhoon chief, was
hurrying down the corridor toward the spiral runway, bearing the
Warhoon’s torch to light his way. A dozen paces behind him followed
John Carter, Prince of Helium.
The two companions of the man who lay now beside the door of the cell
that had been Tars Tarkas’ had just started to ascend the runway as the
Thark came in view.
“Why so long, Tan Gama?” cried one of the men.
“I had trouble with a lock,” replied Tars Tarkas. “And now I find that
I have left my short-sword in the Thark’s cell. Go you on, I’ll return
and fetch it.”
“As you will, Tan Gama,” replied he who had before spoken. “We shall
see you above directly.”
“Yes,” replied Tars Tarkas, and turned as though to retrace his steps
to the cell, but he only waited until the two had disappeared at the
floor above. Then I joined him, we extinguished the torch, and together
we crept toward the spiral incline that led to the upper floors of the
building.
At the first floor we found that the hallway ran but halfway through,
necessitating the crossing of a rear room full of green folk, ere we
could reach the inner courtyard, so there was but one thing left for us
to do, and that was to gain the second floor and the hallway through
which I had traversed the length of the building.
Cautiously we ascended. We could hear the sounds of conversation coming
from the room above, but the hall still was unlighted, nor was any one
in sight as we gained the top of the runway. Together we threaded the
long hall and reached the balcony overlooking the courtyard, without
being detected.
At our right was the window letting into the room in which I had seen
Tan Gama and the other warriors as they started to Tars Tarkas’ cell
earlier in the evening. His companions had returned here, and we now
overheard a portion of their conversation.
“What can be detaining Tan Gama?” asked one.
“He certainly could not be all this time fetching his shortsword from
the Thark’s cell,” spoke another.
“His short-sword?” asked a woman. “What mean you?”
“Tan Gama left his short-sword in the Thark’s cell,” explained the
first speaker, “and left us at the runway, to return and get it.”
“Tan Gama wore no short-sword this night,” said the woman. “It was
broken in to-day’s battle with the Thark, and Tan Gama gave it to me to
repair. See, I have it here,” and as she spoke she drew Tan Gama’s
short-sword from beneath her sleeping silks and furs.
The warriors sprang to their feet.
“There is something amiss here,” cried one.
“’Tis even what I myself thought when Tan Gama left us at the runway,”