A Princess of Mars - Page 90/143

It must have been several hours before I regained consciousness and I

well remember the feeling of surprise which swept over me as I realized

that I was not dead.

I was lying among a pile of sleeping silks and furs in the corner of a

small room in which were several green warriors, and bending over me

was an ancient and ugly female.

As I opened my eyes she turned to one of the warriors, saying, "He will live, O Jed."

"'Tis well," replied the one so addressed, rising and approaching my

couch, "he should render rare sport for the great games."

And now as my eyes fell upon him, I saw that he was no Thark, for his

ornaments and metal were not of that horde. He was a huge fellow,

terribly scarred about the face and chest, and with one broken tusk and

a missing ear. Strapped on either breast were human skulls and

depending from these a number of dried human hands.

His reference to the great games of which I had heard so much while

among the Tharks convinced me that I had but jumped from purgatory into

gehenna.

After a few more words with the female, during which she assured him

that I was now fully fit to travel, the jed ordered that we mount and

ride after the main column.

I was strapped securely to as wild and unmanageable a thoat as I had

ever seen, and, with a mounted warrior on either side to prevent the

beast from bolting, we rode forth at a furious pace in pursuit of the

column. My wounds gave me but little pain, so wonderfully and rapidly

had the applications and injections of the female exercised their

therapeutic powers, and so deftly had she bound and plastered the

injuries.

Just before dark we reached the main body of troops shortly after they

had made camp for the night. I was immediately taken before the

leader, who proved to be the jeddak of the hordes of Warhoon.

Like the jed who had brought me, he was frightfully scarred, and also

decorated with the breastplate of human skulls and dried dead hands

which seemed to mark all the greater warriors among the Warhoons, as

well as to indicate their awful ferocity, which greatly transcends even

that of the Tharks.

The jeddak, Bar Comas, who was comparatively young, was the object of

the fierce and jealous hatred of his old lieutenant, Dak Kova, the jed

who had captured me, and I could not but note the almost studied

efforts which the latter made to affront his superior.

He entirely omitted the usual formal salutation as we entered the

presence of the jeddak, and as he pushed me roughly before the ruler he

exclaimed in a loud and menacing voice.