is no hope.'
'Come!' said Lan Sohn Wen; 'we have wasted enough time here. We will take the prisoner to the jeddak. By the way, what is your name?'
'I am John Carter, a Prince of Helium and Warlord of Barsoom,' I replied.
'A proud title, that last,' he said; 'but of Helium I have never heard.'
'If harm befalls me here,' I said, 'you'll hear of Helium if Helium ever learns of it.'
I was escorted through still magnificent avenues flanked by beautiful buildings, still beautiful in decay. I think I have never seen such inspiring architecture, nor construction so enduring. I do not know how old these buildings are, but I have heard Martian savants argue that the original dominant race of white-skinned, yellow- haired people flourished fully a million years ago. It seems incredible that their works should still exist; but there are many things on Mars incredible to the narrow, earthbound men of our little speck of dust.
At last we halted before a tiny gate in a colossal, fortress-like edifice in which there was no other opening than this small gate for fifty feet above the ground. From a balcony fifty feet above the gate a sentry looked down upon us.
'Who comes?' he demanded, although he could doubtless see who came, and must have recognized Lan Sohn Wen.
'It is Lan Sohn Wen, Dwar, commanding the 1st Utan of The Jeddak's Guard, with a prisoner,' replied Lan Sohn Wen.
The sentry appeared bewildered. 'My orders are to admit no strangers,' he said, 'but to kill them immediately.'
'Summon the commander of the guard,' snapped Lan Sohn Wen, and presently an officer came onto the balcony with the sentry.
'What is this?' he demanded. 'No prisoner has ever been brought into the citadel of Horz. You know the law.'
'This is an emergency,' said Lan Sohn Wen. 'I must bring this man before Ho Ran Kim. Open the gate!'
'Only on orders from Ho Ran Kim himself,' replied the commander of the guard.
'Then go get the orders,' said Lan Sohn Wen. 'Tell the Jeddak that I strongly urge him to receive me with this prisoner. He is not as other prisoners who have fallen into our hands in times past.'
The officer re-entered the citadel and was gone for perhaps fifteen minutes when the little gate before which we stood swung outward, and we were motioned in by the commander of the guard himself.
'The Jeddak will receive you,' he said to the dwar, Lan Sohn Wen.
The citadel was an enormous walled city within the ancient city of Horz. It was quite evidently impregnable to any but attack by air. Within were pleasant avenues, homes, gardens, shops. Happy, carefree people stopped to look at me in astonishment as I was conducted down a broad boulevard toward a handsome building. It was the palace of the Jeddak, Ho Ran Kim. A sentry stood upon either side of the portal. There was no other guard; and these two were there more as a formality and as messengers than for protection, for within the walls of the citadel no man needed protection from another; as I was to learn.
We were detained in an anteroom for a few minutes while we were being announced, and then we were ushered down a long corridor and into a medium size room where a man sat at a desk alone. This was Ho Ran Kim, Jeddak of Horz. His skin was not as tanned as that of his warriors, but his hair was just as yellow and his eyes as blue.
I felt those blue eyes appraising me as I approached his desk. They were kindly eyes, but with a glint of steel. From me they passed to Lan Sohn Wen, and to him Ho Ran Kim spoke.
'This is most unusual,' he said in a quiet, well-modulated voice. 'You know, do you not, that Horzans have died for less than this?'
'I do, my Jeddak,' replied the dwar; 'but this is a most unusual emergency.'
'Explain yourself,' said the Jeddak.
'Let me explain,' interrupted Pan Dan Chee, 'for after all the responsibility is mine. I urged this action upon Lan Sohn Wen.'
The Jeddak nodded. 'Proceed,' he said.
Chapter 4
I couldn't comprehend why they were making such an issue of bringing in a prisoner, nor why men had died for less, as Ho Ran Kim had reminded Lan Sohn Wen. In Helium, a warrior would have received at least commendation for bringing in a prisoner. For bringing in John Carter, Warlord of Mars, a common warrior might easily have been ennobled by an enemy prince.
'My Jeddak,' commenced Pan Dan Chee, 'while I was beset by six green warriors, this man, who says he is known as John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, came of his own volition to fight at my side. From whence he came I do not know. I only know that at one moment I was fighting alone, a hopeless fight, and that at the next there fought at my side the greatest swordsman Horz has ever seen. He did not have to come; he could have left at any time, but he remained; and because he remained I am alive and the last of the six green warriors lies dead by the ancient waterfront. He would have escaped had not John Carter leaped to the back of a great thoat and pursued him.
'Then this man could have escaped, but he came back. He fought for a soldier of Horz. He trusted the men of Horz. Are we to repay him with death?'
Pan Dan Chee ceased speaking, and Ho Ran Kim turned his blue eyes upon me. 'John Carter,' he said, 'what you have done commands the respect and sympathy of every man of Horz. It wins the thanks of their Jeddak, but-' He hesitated. 'Perhaps if I tell you something of our history, you will understand why I must condemn you to death.' He paused for a moment, as though in thought.
At the same time I was doing a little thinking on my own account The casual manner in which Ho Ran Kim had sentenced me to death had rather taken my breath away. He seemed so friendly that it didn't seem possible that he was in earnest, but a glance at the glint in those blue eyes assured me that he was not being facetious.
'I am sure,' I said, 'that the history of Horz must be most interesting; but right now I am most interested in learning why I should have to die for befriending a fighting man of Horz.'
'That I shall explain,' he said.
'It is going to take a great deal of explaining, your majesty,' I assured him.
He paid no attention to that, but continued. 'The inhabitants of Horz are, as far as we know, the sole remaining remnant of the once dominant race of Barsoom, the Orovars. A million years ago our ships ranged the five great oceans, which we ruled. The city of Horz was not only the capital of a great empire, it was the seat of learning and culture of the most glorious race of human beings a world has ever known. Our empire spread from pole to pole. There were other races on Barsoom, but they were few in numbers and negligible in importance. We looked upon them as inferior creatures. The Orovars owned Barsoom, which was divided among a score of powerful jeddaks. They were a happy, prosperous, contented people, the various nations seldom warring upon one another. Horz had enjoyed a thousand years of peace.
'They had reached the ultimate pinnacle of civilization and perfection when the first shadow of impending fate darkened their horizon-the seas began to recede, the atmosphere to grow more tenuous. What science had long predicted was coming to pass-a world was dying.
'For ages our cities followed the receding waters. Straits and bays, canals and lakes dried up. Prosperous seaports became deserted inland cities. Famine came. Hungry hordes made war upon the more fortunate. The growing hordes of wild green men overran what had once been fertile farm land, preying upon all.
'The atmosphere became so tenuous that it was difficult to breathe. Scientists were working upon an atmosphere plant, but before it was completed and in successful operation all but a few of the inhabitants of Barsoom had died. Only the hardiest survived-the green men, the red men, and a few Orovars; then life became merely a battle for the survival of the fittest.
'The green men hunted us as we had hunted beasts of prey. They gave us no rest, they showed us no
