Free A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs Page B

unexpectedly
bucked him off headforemost into a pot of frijoles.
    My laughter frightened Woola, his antics ceased and he crawled
pitifully toward me, poking his ugly head far into my lap; and then
I remembered what laughter signified on Mars—torture, suffering,
death. Quieting myself, I rubbed the poor old fellow's head and
back, talked to him for a few minutes, and then in an authoritative
tone commanded him to follow me, and arising started for the hills.
    There was no further question of authority between us; Woola was my
devoted slave from that moment hence, and I his only and undisputed
master. My walk to the hills occupied but a few minutes, and I
found nothing of particular interest to reward me. Numerous
brilliantly colored and strangely formed wild flowers dotted the
ravines and from the summit of the first hill I saw still other
hills stretching off toward the north, and rising, one range above
another, until lost in mountains of quite respectable dimensions;
though I afterward found that only a few peaks on all Mars exceed
four thousand feet in height; the suggestion of magnitude was merely
relative.
    My morning's walk had been large with importance to me for it had
resulted in a perfect understanding with Woola, upon whom Tars
Tarkas relied for my safe keeping. I now knew that while
theoretically a prisoner I was virtually free, and I hastened to
regain the city limits before the defection of Woola could be
discovered by his erstwhile masters. The adventure decided me never
again to leave the limits of my prescribed stamping grounds until I
was ready to venture forth for good and all, as it would certainly
result in a curtailment of my liberties, as well as the probable
death of Woola, were we to be discovered.
    On regaining the plaza I had my third glimpse of the captive girl.
She was standing with her guards before the entrance to the audience
chamber, and as I approached she gave me one haughty glance and
turned her back full upon me. The act was so womanly, so earthly
womanly, that though it stung my pride it also warmed my heart with
a feeling of companionship; it was good to know that someone else on
Mars beside myself had human instincts of a civilized order, even
though the manifestation of them was so painful and mortifying.
    Had a green Martian woman desired to show dislike or contempt she
would, in all likelihood, have done it with a sword thrust or a
movement of her trigger finger; but as their sentiments are mostly
atrophied it would have required a serious injury to have aroused
such passions in them. Sola, let me add, was an exception; I never
saw her perform a cruel or uncouth act, or fail in uniform
kindliness and good nature. She was indeed, as her fellow Martian
had said of her, an atavism; a dear and precious reversion to a
former type of loved and loving ancestor.
    Seeing that the prisoner seemed the center of attraction I halted to
view the proceedings. I had not long to wait for presently Lorquas
Ptomel and his retinue of chieftains approached the building and,
signing the guards to follow with the prisoner entered the audience
chamber. Realizing that I was a somewhat favored character, and
also convinced that the warriors did not know of my proficiency in
their language, as I had pleaded with Sola to keep this a secret on
the grounds that I did not wish to be forced to talk with the men
until I had perfectly mastered the Martian tongue, I chanced an
attempt to enter the audience chamber and listen to the proceedings.
    The council squatted upon the steps of the rostrum, while below them
stood the prisoner and her two guards. I saw that one of the women
was Sarkoja, and thus understood how she had been present at the
hearing of the preceding day, the results of which she had reported
to the occupants of our dormitory last night. Her attitude toward
the captive was most harsh and brutal. When she held her, she sunk
her rudimentary nails into the poor girl's flesh, or twisted her
arm in a most