LITMIR.BIZ

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and hesitated to leave. The warrior drew an evil looking pistol from its holster and intended to shoot the creature. I sprang forward and struck up his arm. The bullet striking the wooden casing of the window exploded, blowing a hole completely through the wood and masonry.

      I knelt down beside the fearsome-looking thing and motioned for it to follow me. The looks of surprise the Martians' faces were ludicrous. They could not understand, except in a feeble and childish way, such attributes as gratitude and compassion. The warrior looked enquiringly at Tars Tarkas, but the latter signed to left me to my own devices. We returned to the plaza with my great beast following close at heel, and Sola grasping me tightly by the arm.

      I had at least two friends on Mars:a young woman who watched over me with motherly solicitude[37], and a brute which held in its poor ugly carcass love, loyalty and gratitude.

      VII. Child-Raising On Mars

      After a breakfast which was an exact replica of the meal, Sola escorted me to the plaza. There, the Martians were harnessing huge mastodonian animals to great three-wheeled chariots. The chariots themselves were large, commodious, and gorgeously decorated. A female Martian loaded with ornaments of metal, with jewels and silks and furs was seating in each chariot. The animals wore neither bit nor bridle; the Martians guided them entirely by telepathic means[38]. This power is wonderfully developed in all Martians.

      Sola dragged me into an empty chariot and we proceeded with the procession. At the head of the caravan rode some two hundred warriors, five abreast, and a like number brought up the rear, while twenty-five or thirty outriders flanked us on either side. Our way led out across the little valley before the city, through the hills, and down into the dead sea. The incubator, as it proved, was the terminal point of our journey[39] this day. As soon as we reached the level expanse of sea bottom, we were soon within sight of our goal.

      On reaching it, the Martians parked the chariots with military precision[40] on the four sides of the enclosure. Tars Tarkas was explaining something to the principal chieftain, whose name was Lorquas Ptomel, Jed; jed was his title. He signed Sola to send me to him. I already mastered the intricacies of walking under Martian conditions and quickly advanced to the side of the incubator where the warriors stood.

      As I came to a halt before him, Tars Tarkas pointed over the incubator and said, “Sak.” I saw that he wanted me to repeat my performance of yesterday in sight of Lorquas Ptomel. I quickly leaped entirely over the parked chariots on the far side of the incubator. As I returned, Lorquas Ptomel grunted something at me, and then gave a few words of command relative to the incubator to his warriors.

      Almost all eggs hatched. The incubator was alive with the hideous little devils. The warriors broke an opening in the wall of the incubator, while the women and the younger Martians formed two solid walls leading out through the chariots and quite away in plain beyond[41]. Between these walls the little Martians scampered, wild as deer. The women and older children captured each of them. As the women caught the young, they fell out of line and returned to their respective chariots. Those who fell into the hands of the young men, were later turned over to some of the women.

      I saw that the ceremony was over. I started seeking out Sola and found her in our chariot with a hideous little creature held tightly in her arms.

      They come from eggs perfectly developed except size. They do not know their mothers, who, in turn, do not know their children. The work of rearing young Martians consists solely in teaching them to talk, and to use the weapons of warfare. From birth, they know no father or mother love. Deformed and defective ones are promptly shot. I believe that horrible system is the direct cause of the loss of all the finer feelings and higher humanitarian instincts among these poor creatures.

      By careful selection they rear only the hardiest specimens of each species, and with almost supernatural foresight they regulate the birth rate to merely offset the loss by death.

      Each adult Martian female brings forth about thirteen eggs each year. If the eggs meet the size, weight, and specific gravity tests, the Martians hide them in the recesses of some subterranean vault. The temperature there is too low for incubation. Every year a council of twenty chieftains examine these eggs carefully. All but about one hundred of the most perfect are destroyed out of each yearly supply. The perfect eggs are placed in the almost air-tight incubators to be hatched by the sun's rays after a period of another five years.

      The incubators are built in remote fastnesses so no other tribe could discover them. The result of such a catastrophe would mean no children in the community for another five years.

      After our return to the dead city, I passed several days in comparative idleness. On the day following all the warriors rode forth early in the morning and did not return until dark. As I later learned, they transported the eggs from the subterranean vaults to the incubator. The incubator was not to be visited another five years[42].

      Sola's duties were now doubled, as she was compelled to care for the young Martian as well as for me. Neither one of us required much attention, and as we were both about equally advanced in Martian education, Sola took it upon herself to train us together.

      Her prize consisted in a male about four feet tall, very strong and physically perfect. He learned quickly and so did I. The Martian language is extremely simple, and in a week I could make all my wants known and understand nearly everything. Likewise, under Sola's tutelage, I developed my telepathic powers so that I shortly could sense practically everything that went on around me.

      What surprised Sola most in me was that while I could catch telepathic messages easily from others, and often when they were not intended for me. But no one could read a jot from my mind under any circumstances. At first this vexed me, but later I was very glad of it, as it gave me an undoubted advantage over the Martians.

      VIII. A Fair Captive from the Sky

      On the third day after the incubator ceremony, we set forth toward home. When the head of the procession debouched into the open ground before the city, he gave orders for an immediate and hasty return. The green Martians melted like mist into the spacious doorways of the nearby buildings.

      Sola and I entered a building upon the front of the city. I mounted to an upper floor and peered from the window out over the valley and the hills beyond to see what happens. And there I saw the cause of their sudden scurrying to cover. A huge craft, long, low, and gray-painted, swung slowly over the crest of the nearest hill. There was another twenty of them following the first one. Swinging low above the ground, they sailed slowly and majestically toward us.

      Each carried a strange banner swung from stem to stern above the upper work. Some odd device that gleamed in the sunlight and showed plainly even at the distance was painted upon the prow of each. I could see figures crowding the forward decks and upper works of the air craft. I could not say whether they discovered us or simply were looking at the deserted city. But in any event, they received a rude reception. Suddenly and without warning, the green Martian warriors fired a terrific volley from the windows of the buildings.

      Instantly the scene changed as by magic. The foremost vessel swung broadside toward, brought her guns and returned our fire. They were moving parallel to our front for a short distance, but then turned back to complete a great circle. The other vessels followed in her wake, each one opening fire upon us. Our own fire never diminished, and I doubt if twenty-five per cent of our shots went wild. The green warriors seem to be deadly accurate in aiming.

      The fire from the vessels was very ineffectual, as they were not prepared for the attack. The green warriors, thus, successfully directed their fire upon the vessels' big guns, smaller guns, gunners, officers and other members of the crew.

      Twenty minutes after, the ships were defeated. They ceased the fire entirely and tried to escape, but our warriors rushed up to the roofs of the buildings and followed them with a continuous

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