large as a small puma and ten times as ferocious.
As the creature leaped for my throat, I struck it a heavy blow on the side of its head and knocked it to one side; but it was up at once and at me again; then Pan Dan Chee came into the scene. They had not disarmed him, and with short-sword he set upon the ulsio.
It was quite a battle. That ulsio was the most ferocious and most determined beast I had ever seen, and it gave Pan Dan Chee the fight of his life. He had knocked off two of its six legs, an ear, and most of its teeth before the ferocity of its repeated attacks abated at all. It was almost cut to ribbons, yet it always forced the fighting. I could only stand and look on, which is not such a part in a fight as I like to take. At last, however, it was over; the ulsio was dead, and Pan Dan Chee looked at me and smiled.
He was looking around for something upon which he might wipe the blood from his blade. 'Perhaps there is something in this other chest,' I suggested; and, walking to it, I lifted the lid.
The chest was about seven feet long, two and a half wide and two deep. In it lay the body of a man. His elaborate harness was encrusted with jewels. He wore a helmet entirely covered with diamonds, one of the few helmets I had ever seen upon Mars. The scabbards of his long-sword, his short-sword, and his dagger were similarly emblazoned.
He had been a very handsome man, and he was still a handsome corpse. So perfectly was he preserved that, in so far as appearances went, he might still have been alive but for the thin layer of dust overlying his features. When I blew this away he looked quite as alive as you or I.
'You bury your dead here?' I asked Pan Dan Chee, but he shook his head.
'No,' he replied. 'This chap may have been here a million years.'
'Nonsense!' I exclaimed. 'He would have dried up and blown away thousands of years ago.'
'I don't know about that,' said Pan Dan Chee. 'There were lots of things that those old fellows knew that are lost arts today. Embalming, I know, was one of them. There is the legend of Lee Um Lo, the most famous embalmer of all time. It recounts that his work was so perfect that not even the corpse, himself, knew that he was dead; and upon several occasions they arose and walked out during the funeral services. The end of Lee Um Lo came when the wife of a great jeddak failed to realize that she was dead, and walked right in on the jeddak and his new wife. The next day Lee Um Lo lost his head.'
'It is a good story,' I said, laughing; 'but I hope this chap realizes that he is dead; because I am about to disarm him. Little could he have dreamed a million years ago that one day he was going to rearm The Warlord of Barsoom.'
Pan Dan Chee helped me raise the corpse and remove its harness; and we were both rather startled by the soft, pliable texture of the flesh and its normal warmth.
'Do you suppose we could be mistaken?' I asked. 'Could it be that he is not dead?'
Pan Dan Chee shrugged. 'The knowledge and the arts of the ancients are beyond the ken of modern man,' he said.
'That doesn't help a bit,' I said. 'Do you think this chap can be alive?'
'His face was covered with dust,' said Pan Dan Chee, 'and no one has been in these pits for thousands and thousands of years. If he isn't dead, he should be.'
I quite agreed, and buckled the gorgeous harness about me without more ado. I drew the swords and the dagger and examined them. They were as bright and fine as the day they had received their first polish, and their edges were keen. Once again, I felt like a whole man, so much is a sword a part of me.
As we stepped out into the corridor I saw a light far away. It was gone almost in the instant. 'Did you see that?' I asked Pan Dan Chee.
'I saw it,' he said, and his voice was troubled. 'There should be no light here, for there are no people.'
We stood straining our eyes along the corridor for a repetition of the light.
There was none but from afar there echoed down that black corridor a hollow laugh.
Chapter 6
Pan Dan Chee looked at me. 'What,' he asked, 'could that have been?'
'It sounded very much like a laugh to me,' I replied.
Pan Dan Chee nodded. 'Yes,' he agreed, 'but how can there be a laugh where there is no one to laugh?' Pan Dan Chee was perplexed.
'Perhaps the ulsios of Horz have learned to laugh,' I suggested with a smile.
Pan Dan Chee ignored my flippancy. 'We saw a light and we heard a laugh,' he said thoughtfully. 'What does that convey to you?'
'The same thing that it conveys to you,' I said: 'that there is some one down here in the pits of Horz beside us.'
'I do not see how that can be possible,' he said.
'Let's investigate,' I suggested.
With drawn swords we advanced; for we did not know the nature nor the temper of the owner of that laugh, and there was always the chance that an ulsio might leap from one of the dungeons and attack us.
The corridor ran straight for some distance, and then commenced to curve. There were many branches and intersections, but we kept to what we believed to be the main corridor. We saw no more lights, heard no more laughter. There was not a sound in all that vast labyrinth of passageways other than the subdued clanking of our metal, the occasional shuffling of our sandalled feet, and the soft whisperings of our leather harnesses.
'It is useless to search farther,' said Pan Dan Chee at last. 'We might as well start back.'
Now I had no intention of going back to my death. I reasoned that the light and the laugh indicated the presence of man in these pits. If the inhabitants of Horz knew nothing of them; then they must enter the pits from outside the citadel, indicating an avenue of escape open to me. Therefore, I did not wish to retrace our steps; so I suggested that we rest for a while and discuss our future plans.
'We can rest,' said Pan Dan Chee, 'but there is nothing to discuss. Our plans have all been made for us by Ho Ran Kim.'
We entered a cell which contained no grim reminders of past tragedy; and, after wedging one of our torches in a niche in the wall, we sat down on the hard stone floor.
'Perhaps your plans have been made for you by Ho Ran Kim,' I said, 'but I make my own plans.'
'And they are-?' he asked.
'I am not going back to be murdered. I am going to find a way out of these pits.'
Pan Dan Chee shook his head sorrowfully. 'I am sorry,' he said, 'but you are going back to meet your fate with me.'
'What makes you think that?' I asked.
'Because I shall have to take you back. You well know that I cannot let a stranger escape from Horz.'
'That means that we shall have to fight to the death, Pan Dan Chee,' I said; 'and I do not wish to kill one at whose side I have fought and whom I have learned to admire.'
'I feel the same way, John Carter,' said Pan Dan Chee. 'I do not wish to kill you; but you must see my position-if you do not come with me willingly, I shall have to kill you.'
I tried to argue him out of his foolish stand, but he was adamant. I was positive that Pan Dan Chee liked me; and I shrank from the idea of killing him, as I knew that I should. He was an excellent swordsman, but what chance would he have against the master swordsman of two worlds? I am sorry if that should sound like boasting; for I abhor boasting-I only spoke what is a fact. I am, unquestionably, the best swordsman that has ever lived.
'Well,' I said, 'we don't have to kill each other at once. Let's enjoy each other's company for a while longer.'
Pan Dan Chee smiled. 'That will suit me perfectly,' he said.
'How about a game of Jetan?' I asked. 'It will help to pass the time pleasantly.'
'How can we play Jetan without a board or the pieces?' he asked.
I opened the leather pocket pouch such as all Martians carry, and took out a tiny, folding Jetan board with
