either of you."
"What do they say?" inquired Dejah Thoris.
"That you will be thrown to the wild calots [dogs] in the great arena
as soon as the hordes have assembled for the yearly games."
"Sola," I said, "you are a Thark, but you hate and loathe the customs
of your people as much as we do. Will you not accompany us in one
supreme effort to escape? I am sure that Dejah Thoris can offer you a
home and protection among her people, and your fate can be no worse
among them than it must ever be here."
"Yes," cried Dejah Thoris, "come with us, Sola, you will be better off
among the red men of Helium than you are here, and I can promise you
not only a home with us, but the love and affection your nature craves
and which must always be denied you by the customs of your own race.
Come with us, Sola; we might go without you, but your fate would be
terrible if they thought you had connived to aid us. I know that even
that fear would not tempt you to interfere in our escape, but we want
you with us, we want you to come to a land of sunshine and happiness,
amongst a people who know the meaning of love, of sympathy, and of
gratitude. Say that you will, Sola; tell me that you will."
"The great waterway which leads to Helium is but fifty miles to the
south," murmured Sola, half to herself; "a swift thoat might make it in
three hours; and then to Helium it is five hundred miles, most of the
way through thinly settled districts. They would know and they would
follow us. We might hide among the great trees for a time, but the
chances are small indeed for escape. They would follow us to the very
gates of Helium, and they would take toll of life at every step; you do
not know them."
"Is there no other way we might reach Helium?" I asked. "Can you not
draw me a rough map of the country we must traverse, Dejah Thoris?"
"Yes," she replied, and taking a great diamond from her hair she drew
upon the marble floor the first map of Barsoomian territory I had ever
seen. It was crisscrossed in every direction with long straight lines,
sometimes running parallel and sometimes converging toward some great
circle. The lines, she said, were waterways; the circles, cities; and
one far to the northwest of us she
Ere he had scarce finished his little speech he had turned and was limping off toward the forecastle with the very apparent intention of forestalling any further conversation.Page 15
" He gathered her in his arms, whispering words of courage and love into her ears.Page 65
Before each hut a woman presided over a boiling stew, while little cakes of plantain, and cassava puddings were to be seen on every hand.Page 76
In the sum total of their points, however, the anthropoid had a shade the better of the battle, and had there been no other personal attribute to influence the final outcome, Tarzan of the Apes, the young Lord Greystoke, would have died as he had lived--an unknown savage beast in equatorial Africa.Page 85
William Cecil Clayton had imagined.Page 89
Quickly, with an impatient stamp of her little foot, she endeavored to shake off the gloomy forebodings, and turning to Esmeralda bade her cease her wailing.Page 93
If so he must speak English.Page 106
"Tut, tut, Mr.Page 109
Instantly her tears ceased.Page 110
A boat was lowered, and in it a great chest was placed.Page 115
For twenty minutes he pored over them, when suddenly they commenced to take familiar though distorted shapes.Page 132
Once he looked down into her eyes and smiled, and the girl had to close her own to shut out the vision of that handsome, winning face.Page 135
He would act as he imagined the men in the books would have acted were they in his place.Page 137
Jane shook her head vehemently and would have removed the golden links from about her throat, but Tarzan would not let her.Page 146
Without a word Tarzan of the Apes cut the bonds which held the Frenchman.Page 147
I never have been able to find the right word for them but that's it, don't you know, lonesome noises.Page 184
"Buying me for a few paltry dollars? Of course you do, Robert Canler, and the hope of just such a contingency was in your mind when you loaned papa the money for that hair-brained escapade, which but for a most mysterious circumstance would have been surprisingly successful.Page 189
The wind had changed once more and the fire was burning back upon itself--another hour like that and it would be burned out.Page 193
"It is the price of your life.