CHAPTER IV
A PRISONER
We had gone perhaps ten miles when the ground began to rise very
rapidly. We were, as I was later to learn, nearing the edge of one
of Mars' long-dead seas, in the bottom of which my encounter with
the Martians had taken place.
In a short time we gained the foot of the mountains, and after
traversing a narrow gorge came to an open valley, at the far
extremity of which was a low table land upon which I beheld an
enormous city. Toward this we galloped, entering it by what
appeared to be a ruined roadway leading out from the city, but only
to the edge of the table land, where it ended abruptly in a flight
of broad steps.
Upon closer observation I saw as we passed them that the buildings
were deserted, and while not greatly decayed had the appearance of
not having been tenanted for years, possibly for ages. Toward the
center of the city was a large plaza, and upon this and in the
buildings immediately surrounding it were camped some nine or ten
hundred creatures of the same breed as my captors, for such I now
considered them despite the suave manner in which I had been
trapped.
With the exception of their ornaments all were naked. The women
varied in appearance but little from the men, except that their
tusks were much larger in proportion to their height, in some
instances curving nearly to their high-set ears. Their bodies were
smaller and lighter in color, and their fingers and toes bore the
rudiments of nails, which were entirely lacking among the males.
The adult females ranged in height from ten to twelve feet.
The children were light in color, even lighter than the women, and
all looked precisely alike to me, except that some were taller than
others; older, I presumed.
I saw no signs of extreme age among them, nor is there any
appreciable difference in their appearance from the age of maturity,
about forty, until, at about the age of one thousand years, they go
voluntarily upon their last strange pilgrimage down the river Iss,
which leads no living Martian knows whither and from whose bosom no
Martian has ever returned, or would be allowed to live did he return
after once embarking upon its cold, dark waters.
Only about one Martian in a thousand dies of sickness or disease,
and possibly about twenty take the voluntary pilgrimage. The other
nine hundred and seventy-nine die violent deaths in duels, in
hunting, in aviation and in war; but perhaps by far the greatest
death loss comes during the age of childhood, when vast numbers of
the little Martians fall victims to the great white apes of Mars.
The average life expectancy of a Martian after the age of maturity
is about three hundred years, but would be nearer the one-thousand
mark were it not for the various means leading to violent death.
Owing to the waning resources of the planet it evidently became
necessary to counteract the increasing longevity which their
remarkable skill in therapeutics and surgery produced, and so human
life has come to be considered but lightly on Mars, as is evidenced
by their dangerous sports and the almost continual warfare between
the various communities.
There are other and natural causes tending toward a diminution of
population, but nothing contributes so greatly to this end as the
fact that no male or female Martian is ever voluntarily without a
weapon of destruction.
As we neared the plaza and my presence was discovered we were
immediately surrounded by hundreds of the creatures who seemed
anxious to pluck me from my seat behind my guard. A word from the
leader of the party stilled their clamor, and we proceeded at a
trot across the plaza to the entrance of as magnificent an edifice
as mortal eye has rested upon.
The building was low, but covered an enormous area. It was
constructed of gleaming white marble inlaid with gold and brilliant
stones which sparkled and scintillated in the sunlight. The main
entrance was some hundred feet in width and projected from the
building proper to form a huge canopy above the entrance hall.
There was no stairway, but a gentle incline to the first floor of
the building opened into an enormous chamber encircled by galleries.
On the floor of this chamber, which was dotted with highly carved
wooden desks and chairs, were assembled about forty or fifty male
Martians around the steps of a rostrum. On the platform proper
squatted an enormous warrior heavily loaded with metal ornaments,
gay-colored feathers and beautifully wrought leather trappings
ingeniously set with precious stones. From his shoulders depended
a short cape of white fur lined with brilliant scarlet silk.
What struck me as most remarkable about this assemblage and the
hall in which they were congregated was the fact that the creatures
were entirely out of proportion to the desks, chairs, and other
furnishings; these being of a size adapted to human beings such as
I, whereas the great bulks of the Martians could scarcely have
squeezed into the chairs, nor was there room beneath the desks for
their long legs. Evidently, then, there were other denizens on Mars
than the wild and grotesque creatures into whose hands I had fallen,
but the evidences of extreme antiquity which showed all around me
indicated that these buildings might have belonged to some
long-extinct and forgotten race in the dim antiquity of Mars.
Our party had halted at the entrance to the building, and at a sign
from the leader I had been lowered to the ground. Again locking his
arm in mine, we had proceeded into the audience chamber. There were
few formalities observed in approaching the Martian chieftain. My
captor merely strode up to the rostrum, the others making way for
him as he advanced. The chieftain rose to his feet and uttered the
name of my escort who, in turn, halted and repeated the name of the
ruler followed by his title.
At the time, this ceremony and the words they uttered meant nothing
to me, but later I came to know that this was the customary greeting
between green Martians. Had the men been strangers, and therefore
unable to exchange names, they would have silently exchanged
ornaments, had their missions been peaceful--otherwise they would
have exchanged shots, or have fought out their introduction with
some other of their various weapons.
My captor, whose name was Tars Tarkas, was virtually the
vice-chieftain of the community, and a man of great ability as a
statesman and warrior. He evidently explained briefly the incidents
connected with his expedition, including my capture, and when he had
concluded the chieftain addressed me at some length.
I replied in our good old English tongue merely to convince him that
neither of us could understand the other; but I noticed that when I
smiled slightly on concluding, he did likewise. This fact, and the
similar occurrence during my first talk with Tars Tarkas, convinced
me that we had at least something in common; the ability to smile,
therefore to laugh; denoting a sense of humor. But I was to learn
that the Martian smile is merely perfunctory, and that the Martian
laugh is a thing to cause strong men to blanch in horror.
The ideas of humor among the green men of Mars are widely at
variance with our conceptions of incitants to merriment. The
death agonies of a fellow being are, to these strange creatures
provocative of the wildest hilarity, while their chief form of
commonest amusement is to inflict death on their prisoners of
war in various ingenious and horrible ways.
The assembled warriors and chieftains examined me closely, feeling
my muscles and the texture of my skin. The principal chieftain then
evidently signified a desire to see me perform, and, motioning me
to follow, he started with Tars Tarkas for the open plaza.
Now, I had made no attempt to walk, since my first signal failure,
except while tightly grasping Tars Tarkas' arm, and so now I went
skipping and flitting about among the desks and chairs like some
monstrous grasshopper. After bruising myself severely, much to
the amusement of the Martians, I again had recourse to creeping,
but this did not suit them and I was roughly jerked to my feet by
a towering fellow who had laughed most heartily at my misfortunes.
As he banged me down upon my feet his face was bent close to
mine and I did the only thing a gentleman might do under the
circumstances of brutality, boorishness, and lack of consideration
for a stranger's rights; I swung my fist squarely to his jaw and
he went down like a felled ox. As he sunk to the floor I wheeled
around with my back toward the nearest desk, expecting to be
overwhelmed by the vengeance of his fellows, but determined to
give them as good a battle as the unequal odds would permit before
I gave up my life.
My fears were groundless, however, as the other Martians, at first
struck dumb with wonderment, finally broke into wild peals of
laughter and applause. I did not recognize the applause as such,
but later, when I had become acquainted with their customs, I
learned that I had won what they seldom accord, a manifestation
of approbation.
The fellow whom I had struck lay where he had fallen, nor did any of
his mates approach him. Tars Tarkas advanced toward me, holding out
one of his arms, and we thus proceeded to the plaza without further
mishap. I did not, of course, know the reason for which we had come
to the open, but I was not long in being enlightened. They first
repeated the word "sak" a number of times, and then Tars Tarkas made
several jumps, repeating the same word before each leap; then,
turning to me, he said, "sak!" I saw what they were after, and
gathering myself together I "sakked" with such marvelous success
that I cleared a good hundred and fifty feet; nor did I this time,
lose my equilibrium, but landed squarely upon my feet without
falling. I then returned by easy jumps of twenty-five or thirty
feet to the little group of warriors.
My exhibition had been witnessed by several hundred lesser Martians,
and they immediately broke into demands for a repetition, which the
chieftain then ordered me to make; but I was both hungry and
thirsty, and determined on the spot that my only method of salvation
was to demand the consideration from these creatures which they
evidently would not voluntarily accord. I therefore ignored the
repeated commands to "sak," and each time they were made I motioned
to my mouth and rubbed my stomach.
Tars Tarkas and the chief exchanged a few words, and the former,
calling to a young female among the throng, gave her some
instructions and motioned me to accompany her. I grasped her
proffered arm and together we crossed the plaza toward a large
building on the far side.
My fair companion was about eight feet tall, having just arrived
at maturity, but not yet to her full height. She was of a light
olive-green color, with a smooth, glossy hide. Her name, as I
afterward learned, was Sola, and she belonged to the retinue of
Tars Tarkas. She conducted me to a spacious chamber in one of the
buildings fronting on the plaza, and which, from the litter of
silks and furs upon the floor, I took to be the sleeping quarters
of several of the natives.
The room was well lighted by a number of large windows and was
beautifully decorated with mural paintings and mosaics, but upon
all there seemed to rest that indefinable touch of the finger of
antiquity which convinced me that the architects and builders of
these wondrous creations had nothing in common with the crude
half-brutes which now occupied them.
Sola motioned me to be seated upon a pile of silks near the center
of the room, and, turning, made a peculiar hissing sound, as though
signaling to someone in an adjoining room. In response to her call
I obtained my first sight of a new Martian wonder. It waddled in
on its ten short legs, and squatted down before the girl like an
obedient puppy. The thing was about the size of a Shetland pony,
but its head bore a slight resemblance to that of a frog, except
that the jaws were equipped with three rows of long, sharp tusks.
