Life on other planets -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction
A single shot from my pistol might have dispatched him, but it was
equally possible that it would not, for these great white apes of
Barsoom are tremendous creatures, endowed with almost unbelievable
vitality. Many of them stand fully fifteen feet in height and are
endowed by nature with tremendous strength. Their very appearance
is demoralizing to an enemy; their white, hairless bodies are in
themselves repulsive to the eye of a red man; the great shock of white
hair bristling erect upon their pates accentuates the brutality of
their countenances, while their intermediary set of limbs, which they
use either as arms or legs as necessity or whim suggests, render them
most formidable antagonists. Quite generally they carry a club, in the
use of which they are terribly proficient. One of them, therefore,
seemed sufficiently a menace in itself, so that I had no desire to
attract others of its kind, though I was fully aware that eventually I
might be forced to carry the battle to him.
Just as the sun was setting my attention was attracted toward the
water-front where the long shadows of the city were stretching far out
across the dead sea bottom. Riding up the gentle acclivity toward the
city was a party of green warriors, mounted upon their great savage
thoats. There were perhaps twenty of them, moving silently over the
soft moss that carpeted the bottom of the ancient harbor, the padded
feet of their mounts giving forth no sound. Like specters, they moved
in the shadows of the dying day, giving me further proof that Fate had
led me to a most unfriendly shore, and then, as though to complete the
trilogy of fearsome Barsoomian menaces, the roar of a banth rolled down
out of the hills behind the city.
Safe from observation in the high tower above them, I watched the party
as it emerged from the hollow of the harbor and rode out upon the
avenue below me, and then for the first time I noted a small figure
seated in front of one of the warriors. Darkness was coming swiftly
now, but before the little cavalcade passed out of sight momentarily
behind the corner of the building, as it entered another avenue leading
toward the heart of the city, I thought that I recognized the little
figure as that of a woman of my own race. That she was a captive was a
foregone conclusion and I could not but shudder as I contemplated the
fate that lay in store for her. Perhaps my own Sanoma Tora was in equal
jeopardy. Perhaps--but no, that could not be possible--how could Sanoma
Tora have fallen into the clutches of warriors of the fierce horde of
Torquas?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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