TARS TARKAS FINDS A FRIEND
About noon I passed low over a great
dead city of ancient Mars, and as I skimmed out across
the plain beyond I came full upon several thousand
green warriors engaged in a terrific battle.
Scarcely had I seen them than a volley of shots was
directed at me, and with the almost unfailing accuracy
of their aim my little craft was instantly a ruined
wreck, sinking erratically to the ground.
I fell almost directly in the center
of the fierce combat, among warriors who had not seen
my approach so busily were they engaged in life and
death struggles. The men were fighting on foot
with long-swords, while an occasional shot from a
sharpshooter on the outskirts of the conflict would
bring down a warrior who might for an instant separate
himself from the entangled mass.
As my machine sank among them I realized
that it was fight or die, with good chances of dying
in any event, and so I struck the ground with drawn
long-sword ready to defend myself as I could.
I fell beside a huge monster who was
engaged with three antagonists, and as I glanced at
his fierce face, filled with the light of battle,
I recognized Tars Tarkas the Thark. He did not
see me, as I was a trifle behind him, and just then
the three warriors opposing him, and whom I recognized
as Warhoons, charged simultaneously. The mighty
fellow made quick work of one of them, but in stepping
back for another thrust he fell over a dead body behind
him and was down and at the mercy of his foes in an
instant. Quick as lightning they were upon him,
and Tars Tarkas would have been gathered to his fathers
in short order had I not sprung before his prostrate
form and engaged his adversaries. I had accounted
for one of them when the mighty Thark regained his
feet and quickly settled the other.
He gave me one look, and a slight
smile touched his grim lip as, touching my shoulder,
he said,
“I would scarcely recognize
you, John Carter, but there is no other mortal upon
Barsoom who would have done what you have for me.
I think I have learned that there is such a thing
as friendship, my friend.”
He said no more, nor was there opportunity,
for the Warhoons were closing in about us, and together
we fought, shoulder to shoulder, during all that long,
hot afternoon, until the tide of battle turned and
the remnant of the fierce Warhoon horde fell back upon
their thoats, and fled into the gathering darkness.
Ten thousand men had been engaged
in that titanic struggle, and upon the field of battle
lay three thousand dead. Neither side asked or
gave quarter, nor did they attempt to take prisoners.
On our return to the city after the
battle we had gone directly to Tars Tarkas’
quarters, where I was left alone while the chieftain
attended the customary council which immediately follows
an engagement.
As I sat awaiting the return of the
green warrior I heard something move in an adjoining
apartment, and as I glanced up there rushed suddenly
upon me a huge and hideous creature which bore me backward
upon the pile of silks and furs upon which I had been
reclining. It was Woola—faithful,
loving Woola. He had found his way back to Thark
and, as Tars Tarkas later told me, had gone immediately
to my former quarters where he had taken up his pathetic
and seemingly hopeless watch for my return.
“Tal Hajus knows that you are
here, John Carter,” said Tars Tarkas, on his
return from the jeddak’s quarters; “Sarkoja
saw and recognized you as we were returning.
Tal Hajus has ordered me to bring you before him
tonight. I have ten thoats, John Carter; you
may take your choice from among them, and I will accompany
you to the nearest waterway that leads to Helium.
Tars Tarkas may be a cruel green warrior, but he
can be a friend as well. Come, we must start.”
“And when you return, Tars Tarkas?” I
asked.
“The wild calots, possibly,
or worse,” he replied. “Unless I
should chance to have the opportunity I have so long
waited of battling with Tal Hajus.”
“We will stay, Tars Tarkas,
and see Tal Hajus tonight. You shall not sacrifice
yourself, and it may be that tonight you can have the
chance you wait.”
He objected strenuously, saying that
Tal Hajus often flew into wild fits of passion at
the mere thought of the blow I had dealt him, and
that if ever he laid his hands upon me I would be subjected
to the most horrible tortures.
While we were eating I repeated to
Tars Tarkas the story which Sola had told me that
night upon the sea bottom during the march to Thark.
He said but little, but the great
muscles of his face worked in passion and in agony
at recollection of the horrors which had been heaped
upon the only thing he had ever loved in all his cold,
cruel, terrible existence.
He no longer demurred when I suggested
that we go before Tal Hajus, only saying that he would
like to speak to Sarkoja first. At his request
I accompanied him to her quarters, and the look of
venomous hatred she cast upon me was almost adequate
recompense for any future misfortunes this accidental
return to Thark might bring me.
“Sarkoja,” said Tars Tarkas,
“forty years ago you were instrumental in bringing
about the torture and death of a woman named Gozava.
I have just discovered that the warrior who loved that
woman has learned of your part in the transaction.
He may not kill you, Sarkoja, it is not our custom,
but there is nothing to prevent him tying one end
of a strap about your neck and the other end to a wild
thoat, merely to test your fitness to survive and help
perpetuate our race. Having heard that he would
do this on the morrow, I thought it only right to
warn you, for I am a just man. The river Iss
is but a short pilgrimage, Sarkoja. Come, John
Carter.”
The next morning Sarkoja was gone,
nor was she ever seen after.
In silence we hastened to the jeddak’s
palace, where we were immediately admitted to his
presence; in fact, he could scarcely wait to see me
and was standing erect upon his platform glowering
at the entrance as I came in.
“Strap him to that pillar,”
he shrieked. “We shall see who it is dares
strike the mighty Tal Hajus. Heat the irons;
with my own hands I shall burn the eyes from his head
that he may not pollute my person with his vile gaze.”
“Chieftains of Thark,”
I cried, turning to the assembled council and ignoring
Tal Hajus, “I have been a chief among you, and
today I have fought for Thark shoulder to shoulder
with her greatest warrior. You owe me, at least,
a hearing. I have won that much today.
You claim to be just people—”
“Silence,” roared Tal
Hajus. “Gag the creature and bind him as
I command.”
“Justice, Tal Hajus,”
exclaimed Lorquas Ptomel. “Who are you
to set aside the customs of ages among the Tharks.”
“Yes, justice!” echoed
a dozen voices, and so, while Tal Hajus fumed and
frothed, I continued.
“You are a brave people and
you love bravery, but where was your mighty jeddak
during the fighting today? I did not see him
in the thick of battle; he was not there. He
rends defenseless women and little children in his
lair, but how recently has one of you seen him fight
with men? Why, even I, a midget beside him, felled
him with a single blow of my fist. Is it of
such that the Tharks fashion their jeddaks?
There stands beside me now a great Thark, a mighty
warrior and a noble man. Chieftains, how sounds,
Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark?”
A roar of deep-toned applause greeted this suggestion.
“It but remains for this council
to command, and Tal Hajus must prove his fitness to
rule. Were he a brave man he would invite Tars
Tarkas to combat, for he does not love him, but Tal
Hajus is afraid; Tal Hajus, your jeddak, is a coward.
With my bare hands I could kill him, and he knows
it.”
After I ceased there was tense silence,
as all eyes were riveted upon Tal Hajus. He
did not speak or move, but the blotchy green of his
countenance turned livid, and the froth froze upon
his lips.
“Tal Hajus,” said Lorquas
Ptomel in a cold, hard voice, “never in my long
life have I seen a jeddak of the Tharks so humiliated.
There could be but one answer to this arraignment.
We wait it.” And still Tal Hajus stood
as though electrified.
“Chieftains,” continued
Lorquas Ptomel, “shall the jeddak, Tal Hajus,
prove his fitness to rule over Tars Tarkas?”
There were twenty chieftains about
the rostrum, and twenty swords flashed high in assent.
There was no alternative. That
decree was final, and so Tal Hajus drew his long-sword
and advanced to meet Tars Tarkas.
The combat was soon over, and, with
his foot upon the neck of the dead monster, Tars Tarkas
became jeddak among the Tharks.
His first act was to make me a full-fledged
chieftain with the rank I had won by my combats the
first few weeks of my captivity among them.
Seeing the favorable disposition of
the warriors toward Tars Tarkas, as well as toward
me, I grasped the opportunity to enlist them in my
cause against Zodanga. I told Tars Tarkas the
story of my adventures, and in a few words had explained
to him the thought I had in mind.
“John Carter has made a proposal,”
he said, addressing the council, “which meets
with my sanction. I shall put it to you briefly.
Dejah Thoris, the Princess of Helium, who was our prisoner,
is now held by the jeddak of Zodanga, whose son she
must wed to save her country from devastation at the
hands of the Zodangan forces.
“John Carter suggests that we
rescue her and return her to Helium. The loot
of Zodanga would be magnificent, and I have often thought
that had we an alliance with the people of Helium we
could obtain sufficient assurance of sustenance to
permit us to increase the size and frequency of our
hatchings, and thus become unquestionably supreme
among the green men of all Barsoom. What say
you?”
It was a chance to fight, an opportunity
to loot, and they rose to the bait as a speckled trout
to a fly.
For Tharks they were wildly enthusiastic,
and before another half hour had passed twenty mounted
messengers were speeding across dead sea bottoms to
call the hordes together for the expedition.
In three days we were on the march
toward Zodanga, one hundred thousand strong, as Tars
Tarkas had been able to enlist the services of three
smaller hordes on the promise of the great loot of
Zodanga.
At the head of the column I rode beside
the great Thark while at the heels of my mount trotted
my beloved Woola.
We traveled entirely by night, timing
our marches so that we camped during the day at deserted
cities where, even to the beasts, we were all kept
indoors during the daylight hours. On the march
Tars Tarkas, through his remarkable ability and statesmanship,
enlisted fifty thousand more warriors from various
hordes, so that, ten days after we set out we halted
at midnight outside the great walled city of Zodanga,
one hundred and fifty thousand strong.
The fighting strength and efficiency
of this horde of ferocious green monsters was equivalent
to ten times their number of red men. Never in
the history of Barsoom, Tars Tarkas told me, had such
a force of green warriors marched to battle together.
It was a monstrous task to keep even a semblance
of harmony among them, and it was a marvel to me that
he got them to the city without a mighty battle among
themselves.
But as we neared Zodanga their personal
quarrels were submerged by their greater hatred for
the red men, and especially for the Zodangans, who
had for years waged a ruthless campaign of extermination
against the green men, directing special attention
toward despoiling their incubators.
Now that we were before Zodanga the
task of obtaining entry to the city devolved upon
me, and directing Tars Tarkas to hold his forces in
two divisions out of earshot of the city, with each
division opposite a large gateway, I took twenty dismounted
warriors and approached one of the small gates that
pierced the walls at short intervals. These
gates have no regular guard, but are covered by sentries,
who patrol the avenue that encircles the city just
within the walls as our metropolitan police patrol
their beats.
The walls of Zodanga are seventy-five
feet in height and fifty feet thick. They are
built of enormous blocks of carborundum, and the task
of entering the city seemed, to my escort of green
warriors, an impossibility. The fellows who
had been detailed to accompany me were of one of the
smaller hordes, and therefore did not know me.
Placing three of them with their faces
to the wall and arms locked, I commanded two more
to mount to their shoulders, and a sixth I ordered
to climb upon the shoulders of the upper two.
The head of the topmost warrior towered over forty
feet from the ground.
In this way, with ten warriors, I
built a series of three steps from the ground to the
shoulders of the topmost man. Then starting from
a short distance behind them I ran swiftly up from
one tier to the next, and with a final bound from
the broad shoulders of the highest I clutched the
top of the great wall and quietly drew myself to its
broad expanse. After me I dragged six lengths
of leather from an equal number of my warriors.
These lengths we had previously fastened together,
and passing one end to the topmost warrior I lowered
the other end cautiously over the opposite side of
the wall toward the avenue below. No one was
in sight, so, lowering myself to the end of my leather
strap, I dropped the remaining thirty feet to the
pavement below.
I had learned from Kantos Kan the
secret of opening these gates, and in another moment
my twenty great fighting men stood within the doomed
city of Zodanga.
I found to my delight that I had entered
at the lower boundary of the enormous palace grounds.
The building itself showed in the distance a blaze
of glorious light, and on the instant I determined
to lead a detachment of warriors directly within the
palace itself, while the balance of the great horde
was attacking the barracks of the soldiery.
Dispatching one of my men to Tars
Tarkas for a detail of fifty Tharks, with word of
my intentions, I ordered ten warriors to capture and
open one of the great gates while with the nine remaining
I took the other. We were to do our work quietly,
no shots were to be fired and no general advance made
until I had reached the palace with my fifty Tharks.
Our plans worked to perfection. The two sentries
we met were dispatched to their fathers upon the banks
of the lost sea of Korus, and the guards at both gates
followed them in silence.