A Princess of Mars Read Online Free PDF Page B

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