The gods of Mars
shorter but more arduous ways.
However, there was nothing else to consider than an attempt to scale
the trees contiguous to the cliff in an effort to reach the caves
above.
The Thark grasped the possibilities and the difficulties of the plan at
once, but there was no alternative, and so we set out rapidly for the
trees nearest the cliff.
Our relentless pursuers were now close to us, so close that it seemed
that it would be an utter impossibility for the Jeddak of Thark to
reach the forest in advance of them, nor was there any considerable
will in the efforts that Tars Tarkas made, for the green men of Barsoom
do not relish flight, nor ever before had I seen one fleeing from death
in whatsoever form it might have confronted him. But that Tars Tarkas
was the bravest of the brave he had proven thousands of times; yes,
tens of thousands in countless mortal combats with men and beasts. And
so I knew that there was another reason than fear of death behind his
flight, as he knew that a greater power than pride or honour spurred me
to escape these fierce destroyers. In my case it was love—love of the
divine Dejah Thoris; and the cause of the Thark’s great and sudden love
of life I could not fathom, for it is oftener that they seek death than
life—these strange, cruel, loveless, unhappy people.
At length, however, we reached the shadows of the forest, while right
behind us sprang the swiftest of our pursuers—a giant plant man with
claws outreaching to fasten his bloodsucking mouths upon us.
He was, I should say, a hundred yards in advance of his closest
companion, and so I called to Tars Tarkas to ascend a great tree that
brushed the cliff’s face while I dispatched the fellow, thus giving the
less agile Thark an opportunity to reach the higher branches before the
entire horde should be upon us and every vestige of escape cut off.
But I had reckoned without a just appreciation either of the cunning of
my immediate antagonist or the swiftness with which his fellows were
covering the distance which had separated them from me.
As I raised my long-sword to deal the creature its death thrust it
halted in its charge and, as my sword cut harmlessly through the empty
air, the great tail of the thing swept with the power of a grizzly’s
arm across the sward and carried me bodily from my feet to the ground.
In an instant the brute was upon me, but ere it could fasten its
hideous mouths into my breast and throat I grasped a writhing tentacle
in either hand.
The plant man was well muscled, heavy, and powerful but my earthly
sinews and greater agility, in conjunction with the deathly strangle
hold I had upon him, would have given me, I think, an eventual victory
had we had time to discuss the merits of our relative prowess
uninterrupted. But as we strained and struggled about the tree into
which Tars Tarkas was clambering with infinite difficulty, I suddenly
caught a glimpse over the shoulder of my antagonist of the great swarm
of pursuers that now were fairly upon me.
Now, at last, I saw the nature of the other monsters who had come with
the plant men in response to the weird calling of the man upon the
cliff’s face. They were that most dreaded of Martian creatures—great
white apes of Barsoom.
My former experiences upon Mars had familiarized me thoroughly with
them and their methods, and I may say that of all the fearsome and
terrible, weird and grotesque inhabitants of that strange world, it is
the white apes that come nearest to familiarizing me with the sensation
of fear.
I think that the cause of this feeling which these apes engender within
me is due to their remarkable resemblance in form to our Earth men,
which gives them a human appearance that is most uncanny when coupled
with their enormous size.
They stand fifteen feet in height and walk erect upon their hind feet.
Like the green Martians, they have an intermediary set of arms midway
between their upper and lower limbs. Their eyes are very close set, but
do not protrude as do those of the green men of Mars; their ears are
high set, but more laterally located than are the green men’s, while
their snouts and teeth are much like those of our African gorilla. Upon
their heads grows an enormous shock of bristly hair.
It was into the eyes of such as these and the terrible plant men that I
gazed above the shoulder of my foe, and then, in a mighty wave of
snarling, snapping, screaming, purring rage, they swept over me—and of
all the sounds that assailed my ears as I went down beneath them, to me
the most hideous was the horrid purring of the plant men.
Instantly a score of cruel fangs and keen talons were sunk into my
flesh; cold, sucking lips fastened themselves upon my arteries. I
struggled to free myself, and even though weighed down by these immense
bodies, I succeeded in struggling to my feet, where, still grasping my
long-sword, and shortening my grip upon it until I could use it as a
dagger, I wrought such havoc among them that at one time I stood for an
instant free.
What it has taken minutes to write occurred in but a few seconds, but
during that time Tars Tarkas had seen my plight and had dropped from
the lower branches, which he had reached with such infinite labour, and
as I flung the last of my immediate antagonists from me the great Thark
leaped to my side, and again we fought, back to back, as we had done a
hundred times before.
Time and again the ferocious apes sprang in to close with us, and time
and again we beat them back with our swords. The great tails of the
plant men lashed with tremendous power about us as they charged from
various directions or sprang with the agility of greyhounds above our
heads; but every attack met a gleaming blade in sword hands that had
been reputed for twenty years the best that Mars ever had known; for
Tars Tarkas and John Carter were names that the fighting men of the
world of warriors loved best to speak.
But even the two best swords in a world of fighters can avail not for
ever against overwhelming numbers of fierce and savage brutes that know
not what defeat means until cold steel teaches their hearts no longer
to beat, and so, step by step, we were forced back. At length we stood
against the giant tree that we had chosen for our ascent, and then, as
charge after charge hurled its weight upon us, we gave back again and
again, until we had been forced half-way around the huge base of the
colossal trunk.
Tars Tarkas was in the lead, and suddenly I heard a little cry of
exultation from him.
“Here is shelter for one at least, John Carter,” he said, and, glancing
down, I saw an opening in the base of the tree about three feet in
diameter.
“In with you, Tars Tarkas,” I cried, but he would not go; saying that
his bulk was too great for the little aperture, while I might slip in
easily.
“We shall both die if we remain without, John Carter; here is a slight
chance for one of us. Take it and you may live to avenge me, it is
useless for me to attempt to worm my way into so small an opening with
this horde of demons besetting us on all sides.”
“Then we shall die together, Tars Tarkas,” I replied, “for I shall not
go first. Let me defend the opening while you get in, then my smaller
stature will permit me to slip in with you before they can prevent.”
We still were fighting furiously as we talked in broken sentences,
punctured with vicious cuts and thrusts at our swarming enemy.
At length he yielded, for it seemed the only way in which either of us
might be saved from the ever-increasing numbers of our assailants, who
were still swarming upon us from all directions across the broad
valley.
“It was ever your way, John Carter, to think last of your own life,” he
said; “but still more your way to command the lives and actions of
others, even to the greatest of Jeddaks who rule upon Barsoom.”
There was a grim smile upon his cruel, hard face, as he, the greatest
Jeddak of them all, turned to obey the dictates of a creature of
another world—of a man whose stature was less than half his own.
“If you fail, John Carter,” he said, “know that the cruel and heartless
Thark, to whom you taught the meaning of friendship, will come out to
die beside you.”
“As you will, my friend,” I replied; “but quickly now, head first,
while I cover your retreat.”
He hesitated a little at that word, for never before in his whole life
of continual strife had he turned his back upon aught than a dead or
defeated enemy.
“Haste, Tars Tarkas,” I urged, “or we shall both go down to profitless
defeat; I cannot hold them for ever alone.”
As he dropped to the ground to force his way into the tree, the whole
howling pack of hideous devils hurled themselves upon me. To right and
left flew my shimmering blade, now green with the sticky juice of a
plant man, now red with the crimson blood of a great white ape; but
always flying from one opponent to another, hesitating but the barest
fraction of a second to drink the lifeblood in the centre of some
savage heart.
And thus I fought as I never had fought before, against such frightful
odds that I cannot realize even now that human muscles could have
withstood that awful onslaught, that terrific weight of hurtling tons
of ferocious, battling flesh.
With the fear that we would escape them, the creatures redoubled their
efforts to pull me down, and though the ground about me was piled high
with their dead and dying comrades, they succeeded at last in
overwhelming me, and I went down beneath them for the second time that
day, and once again felt those awful sucking lips against my flesh.
But scarce had I fallen ere I felt powerful hands grip my ankles, and
in another second I was being drawn within the shelter of the tree’s
interior. For a moment it was a tug of war between Tars Tarkas and a
great plant man, who clung tenaciously to my breast, but presently I
got the point of my long-sword beneath him and with a mighty thrust
pierced his vitals.
Torn and bleeding from many cruel wounds, I lay panting upon the ground
within the hollow of the tree, while Tars Tarkas defended the opening
from the furious mob without.
For an hour they howled about the tree, but after a few attempts to
reach us they confined their efforts to terrorizing shrieks and
screams, to horrid growling on the part of the great white apes, and
the fearsome and indescribable purring by the plant men.
At length, all but a score, who had apparently been left to prevent our
escape, had left us, and our adventure seemed destined to result in a
siege, the only outcome of which could be our death by starvation; for
even should we be able to slip out after dark, whither in this unknown
and hostile valley could we hope to turn our steps toward possible
escape?
As the attacks of our enemies ceased and our eyes became accustomed to
the semi-darkness of the interior of our strange retreat, I took the
opportunity to explore our shelter.
The tree was hollow to an extent of about fifty feet in diameter, and
from its flat, hard floor I judged that it had often been used to
domicile others before our occupancy. As I raised my eyes toward its
roof to note the height I saw far above me a faint glow of light.
There was an opening above. If we could but reach it we might still
hope to make the shelter of the cliff caves. My eyes had now become
quite used to the subdued light of the interior, and as I pursued my
investigation I presently came upon a rough ladder at the far side of
the cave.
Quickly I mounted it, only to find that it connected at the top with
the lower of a series of horizontal wooden bars that spanned the now
narrow and shaft-like interior of the tree’s stem. These bars were set
one above another about three feet apart, and formed a perfect ladder