A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs
CHAPTER XI
WITH DEJAH THORIS
As we reached the open the two female guards who had been detailed towatch over Dejah Thoris hurried up and made as though to assume custodyof her once more. The poor child shrank against me and I felt her twolittle hands fold tightly over my arm. Waving the women away, Iinformed them that Sola would attend the captive hereafter, and Ifurther warned Sarkoja that any more of her cruel attentions bestowedupon Dejah Thoris would result in Sarkoja's sudden and painful demise.
My threat was unfortunate and resulted in more harm than good to DejahThoris, for, as I learned later, men do not kill women upon Mars, norwomen, men. So Sarkoja merely gave us an ugly look and departed tohatch up deviltries against us.
I soon found Sola and explained to her that I wished her to guard DejahThoris as she had guarded me; that I wished her to find other quarterswhere they would not be molested by Sarkoja, and I finally informed herthat I myself would take up my quarters among the men.
Sola glanced at the accouterments which were carried in my hand andslung across my shoulder.
"You are a great chieftain now, John Carter," she said, "and I must doyour bidding, though indeed I am glad to do it under any circumstances.The man whose metal you carry was young, but he was a great warrior,and had by his promotions and kills won his way close to the rank ofTars Tarkas, who, as you know, is second to Lorquas Ptomel only. Youare eleventh, there are but ten chieftains in this community who rankyou in prowess."
"And if I should kill Lorquas Ptomel?" I asked.
"You would be first, John Carter; but you may only win that honor bythe will of the entire council that Lorquas Ptomel meet you in combat,or should he attack you, you may kill him in self-defense, and thus winfirst place."
I laughed, and changed the subject. I had no particular desire to killLorquas Ptomel, and less to be a jed among the Tharks.
I accompanied Sola and Dejah Thoris in a search for new quarters, whichwe found in a building nearer the audience chamber and of far morepretentious architecture than our former habitation. We also found inthis building real sleeping apartments with ancient beds of highlywrought metal swinging from enormous gold chains depending from themarble ceilings. The decoration of the walls was most elaborate, and,unlike the frescoes in the other buildings I had examined, portrayedmany human figures in the compositions. These were of people likemyself, and of a much lighter color than Dejah Thoris. They were cladin graceful, flowing robes, highly ornamented with metal and jewels,and their luxuriant hair was of a beautiful golden and reddish bronze.The men were beardless and only a few wore arms. The scenes depictedfor the most part, a fair-skinned, fair-haired people at play.
Dejah Thoris clasped her hands with an exclamation of rapture as shegazed upon these magnificent works of art, wrought by a people longextinct; while Sola, on the other hand, apparently did not see them.
We decided to use this room, on the second floor and overlooking theplaza, for Dejah Thoris and Sola, and another room adjoining and in therear for the cooking and supplies. I then dispatched Sola to bring thebedding and such food and utensils as she might need, telling her thatI would guard Dejah Thoris until her return.
As Sola departed Dejah Thoris turned to me with a faint smile.
"And whereto, then, would your prisoner escape should you leave her,unless it was to follow you and crave your protection, and ask yourpardon for the cruel thoughts she has harbored against you these pastfew days?"
"You are right," I answered, "there is no escape for either of usunless we go together."
"I heard your challenge to the creature you call Tars Tarkas, and Ithink I understand your position among these people, but what I cannotfathom is your statement that you are not of Barsoom."
"In the name of my first ancestor, then," she continued, "where may yoube from? You are like unto my people, and yet so unlike. You speak mylanguage, and yet I heard you tell Tars Tarkas that you had but learnedit recently. All Barsoomians speak the same tongue from the ice-cladsouth to the ice-clad north, though their written languages differ.Only in the valley Dor, where the river Iss empties into the lost seaof Korus, is there supposed to be a different language spoken, and,except in the legends of our ancestors, there is no record of aBarsoomian returning up the river Iss, from the shores of Korus in thevalley of Dor. Do not tell me that you have thus returned! They wouldkill you horribly anywhere upon the surface of Barsoom if that weretrue; tell me it is not!"
Her eyes were filled with a strange, weird light; her voice waspleading, and her little hands, reached up upon my breast, were pressedagainst me as though to wring a denial from my very heart.
"I do not know your customs, Dejah Thoris, but in my own Virginia agentleman does not lie to save himself; I am not of Dor; I have neverseen the mysterious Iss; the lost sea of Korus is still lost, so far asI am concerned. Do you believe me?"
And then it struck me suddenly that I was very anxious that she shouldbelieve me. It was not that I feared the results which would follow ageneral belief that I had returned from the Barsoomian heaven or hell,or whatever it was. Why was it, then! Why should I care what shethought? I looked down at her; her beautiful face upturned, and herwonderful eyes opening up the very depth of her soul; and as my eyesmet hers I knew why, and--I shuddered.
A similar wave of feeling seemed to stir her; she drew away from mewith a sigh, and with her earnest, beautiful face turned up to mine,she whispered: "I believe you, John Carter; I do not know what a'gentleman' is, nor have I ever heard before of Virginia; but onBarsoom no man lies; if he does not wish to speak the truth he issilent. Where is this Virginia, your country, John Carter?" she asked,and it seemed that this fair name of my fair land had never soundedmore beautiful than as it fell from those perfect lips on that far-goneday.
"I am of another world," I answered, "the great planet Earth, whichrevolves about our common sun and next within the orbit of yourBarsoom, which we know as Mars. How I came here I cannot tell you, forI do not know; but here I am, and since my presence has permitted me toserve Dejah Thoris I am glad that I am here."
She gazed at me with troubled eyes, long and questioningly. That itwas difficult to believe my statement I well knew, nor could I hopethat she would do so however much I craved her confidence and respect.I would much rather not have told her anything of my antecedents, butno man could look into the depth of those eyes and refuse her slightestbehest.
Finally she smiled, and, rising, said: "I shall have to believe eventhough I cannot understand. I can readily perceive that you are not ofthe Barsoom of today; you are like us, yet different--but why should Itrouble my poor head with such a problem, when my heart tells me that Ibelieve because I wish to believe!"
It was good logic, good, earthly, feminine logic, and if it satisfiedher I certainly could pick no flaws in it. As a matter of fact it wasabout the only kind of logic that could be brought to bear upon myproblem. We fell into a general conversation then, asking andanswering many questions on each side. She was curious to learn of thecustoms of my people and displayed a remarkable knowledge of events onEarth. When I questioned her closely on this seeming familiarity withearthly things she laughed, and cried out:
"Why, every school boy on Barsoom knows the geography, and muchconcerning the fauna and flora, as well as the history of your planetfully as well as of his own. Can we not see everything which takesplace upon Earth, as you call it; is it not hanging there in theheavens in plain sight?"
This baffled me, I must confess, fully as much as my statements hadconfounded her; and I told her so. She then explained in general theinstruments her people had used and been perfecting for ages, whichpermit them to throw upon a screen a perfect image of what istranspiring upon any planet and upon many of the stars. These picturesare so perfect in detail that, when photographed and enlarged, objectsno greater than a blade of grass may be distinctly recognized. Iafterward, in Helium, saw many of these pictures, as well as theinstruments which
"If, then, you are so familiar with earthly things," I asked, "why isit that you do not recognize me as identical with the inhabitants ofthat planet?"
She smiled again as one might in bored indulgence of a questioningchild.
"Because, John Carter," she replied, "nearly every planet and starhaving atmospheric conditions at all approaching those of Barsoom,shows forms of animal life almost identical with you and me; and,further, Earth men, almost without exception, cover their bodies withstrange, unsightly pieces of cloth, and their heads with hideouscontraptions the purpose of which we have been unable to conceive;while you, when found by the Tharkian warriors, were entirelyundisfigured and unadorned.
"The fact that you wore no ornaments is a strong proof of yourun-Barsoomian origin, while the absence of grotesque coverings mightcause a doubt as to your earthliness."
I then narrated the details of my departure from the Earth, explainingthat my body there lay fully clothed in all the, to her, strangegarments of mundane dwellers. At this point Sola returned with ourmeager belongings and her young Martian protege, who, of course, wouldhave to share the quarters with them.
Sola asked us if we had had a visitor during her absence, and seemedmuch surprised when we answered in the negative. It seemed that as shehad mounted the approach to the upper floors where our quarters werelocated, she had met Sarkoja descending. We decided that she must havebeen eavesdropping, but as we could recall nothing of importance thathad passed between us we dismissed the matter as of little consequence,merely promising ourselves to be warned to the utmost caution in thefuture.
Dejah Thoris and I then fell to examining the architecture anddecorations of the beautiful chambers of the building we wereoccupying. She told me that these people had presumably flourishedover a hundred thousand years before. They were the early progenitorsof her race, but had mixed with the other great race of early Martians,who were very dark, almost black, and also with the reddish yellow racewhich had flourished at the same time.
These three great divisions of the higher Martians had been forced intoa mighty alliance as the drying up of the Martian seas had compelledthem to seek the comparatively few and always diminishing fertileareas, and to defend themselves, under new conditions of life, againstthe wild hordes of green men.
Ages of close relationship and intermarrying had resulted in the raceof red men, of which Dejah Thoris was a fair and beautiful daughter.During the ages of hardships and incessant warring between their ownvarious races, as well as with the green men, and before they hadfitted themselves to the changed conditions, much of the highcivilization and many of the arts of the fair-haired Martians hadbecome lost; but the red race of today has reached a point where itfeels that it has made up in new discoveries and in a more practicalcivilization for all that lies irretrievably buried with the ancientBarsoomians, beneath the countless intervening ages.
These ancient Martians had been a highly cultivated and literary race,but during the vicissitudes of those trying centuries of readjustmentto new conditions, not only did their advancement and production ceaseentirely, but practically all their archives, records, and literaturewere lost.
Dejah Thoris related many interesting facts and legends concerning thislost race of noble and kindly people. She said that the city in whichwe were camping was supposed to have been a center of commerce andculture known as Korad. It had been built upon a beautiful, naturalharbor, landlocked by magnificent hills. The little valley on the westfront of the city, she explained, was all that remained of the harbor,while the pass through the hills to the old sea bottom had been thechannel through which the shipping passed up to the city's gates.
The shores of the ancient seas were dotted with just such cities, andlesser ones, in diminishing numbers, were to be found converging towardthe center of the oceans, as the people had found it necessary tofollow the receding waters until necessity had forced upon them theirultimate salvation, the so-called Martian canals.
We had been so engrossed in exploration of the building and in ourconversation that it was late in the afternoon before we realized it.We were brought back to a realization of our present conditions by amessenger bearing a summons from Lorquas Ptomel directing me to appearbefore him forthwith. Bidding Dejah Thoris and Sola farewell, andcommanding Woola to remain on guard, I hastened to the audiencechamber, where I found Lorquas Ptomel and Tars Tarkas seated upon therostrum.