and I was unscathed. Jubal was rushing upon me now with the only
remaining weapon that he carried--a murderous-looking knife. He was
too close for a careful bowshot, but I let drive at him as he came,
without taking aim. My arrow pierced the fleshy part of his thigh,
inflicting a painful but not disabling wound. And then he was upon me.
My agility saved me for the instant. I ducked beneath his raised arm,
and when he wheeled to come at me again he found a sword's point in his
face. And a moment later he felt an inch or two of it in the muscles
of his knife arm, so that thereafter he went more warily.
It was a duel of strategy now--the great, hairy man maneuvering to get
inside my guard where he could bring those giant thews to play, while
my wits were directed to the task of keeping him at arm's length.
Thrice he rushed me, and thrice I caught his knife blow upon my shield.
Each time my sword found his body--once penetrating to his lung. He
was covered with blood by this time, and the internal hemorrhage
induced paroxysms of coughing that brought the red stream through the
hideous mouth and nose, covering his face and breast with bloody froth.
He was a most unlovely spectacle, but he was far from dead.
As the duel continued I began to gain confidence, for, to be perfectly
candid, I had not expected to survive the first rush of that monstrous
engine of ungoverned rage and hatred. And I think that Jubal, from
utter contempt of me, began to change to a feeling of respect, and then
in his primitive mind there evidently loomed the thought that perhaps
at last he had met his master, and was facing his end.
At any rate it is only upon this hypothesis that I can account for his
next act, which was in the nature of a last resort--a sort of forlorn
hope, which could only have been born of the belief that if he did not
kill me quickly I should kill him. It happened on the occasion of his
fourth charge, when, instead of striking at me with his knife, he
dropped that weapon, and seizing my sword blade in both his hands
wrenched the weapon from my grasp as easily as from a babe.
Flinging it far to one side he stood motionless for just an instant
glaring into my face with such a horrid leer of malignant triumph
Its nose was a ragged, inflamed, circular hole in the centre of its blank face; a hole that resembled more closely nothing that I could think of other than a fresh bullet wound which has not yet commenced to bleed.Page 8
Here were the great males towering in all the majesty of their imposing height; here were the gleaming white tusks protruding from their massive lower jaws to a point near the centre of their foreheads, the laterally placed, protruding eyes with which they could look forward or backward, or to either side without turning their heads, here the strange antennae-like ears rising from the tops of their foreheads; and the additional pair of arms extending from midway between the shoulders and the hips.Page 11
Once I felt the great weight of one of the monsters upon my back and as keen talons sank into my flesh I experienced the frightful sensation of moist lips sucking the lifeblood from the wounds to which the claws still clung.Page 19
At length, all but a score, who had apparently been left to prevent our escape, had left us, and our adventure seemed destined to result in a siege, the only outcome of which could be our death by starvation; for even should we be able to slip out after dark, whither in this unknown and hostile valley could we hope to turn our steps toward possible escape? As the attacks of our enemies ceased and our eyes became accustomed to the semi-darkness of the interior of our strange retreat, I took the opportunity to explore our shelter.Page 24
"This, John Carter, is Heaven.Page 26
The apartment was hewn from the material of the cliff, showing mostly dull gold in the dim light which a single minute radium illuminator in the centre of the roof diffused throughout its great dimensions.Page 38
" "One has escaped, centuries ago," I reminded her, "and what has been done may be done again.Page 52
I turned to search for an opening through the contending hordes.Page 64
CHAPTER VIII THE DEPTHS OF OMEAN Now I realized why the black pirate had kept me engrossed with his strange tale.Page 66
Each was occupied with his own thoughts.Page 84
I fell to wondering about the fate of the great Thark, and of his beautiful companion, the girl, Thuvia.Page 99
With your mighty sword arm you may yet win to the Golden Cliffs and the templed gardens of the Holy Therns.Page 100
"We seem to be in a pretty fix here with a splendid chance of dying of starvation and thirst.Page 109
As I stooped to drop to the floor beside him he motioned me to wait, and coming close below me whispered: "Catch my hand; I can almost leap to the top of that wall myself.Page 113
The pandemonium that had broken out below us was deafening.Page 115
It was summer at the south pole.Page 154
"The guards! Below there! The guards!" We were close behind him, and all saw the figure of a man run quickly across a little piece of sward and disappear in the shrubbery beyond.Page 156
A second later the wall swung in, and I was pushed within a brilliantly lighted chamber in which sat three richly trapped men.Page 171
Ship after ship reeled and staggered into uselessness beneath the pitiless fire that we were undergoing.Page 193
I have ordered the pumps started, and in five minutes the pits will be flooded.