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throat but he shall die； Bar Comas。 No maudlin weakness
on your part shall save him。 O； would that Warhoon were
ruled by a real jeddak rather than by a water…hearted
weakling from whom even old Dak Kova could tear the metal
with his bare hands！〃
Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain for
an instant； his expression one of haughty； fearless contempt
and hate； and then without drawing a weapon and without
uttering a word he hurled himself at the throat of his defamer。
I never before had seen two green Martian warriors battle
with nature's weapons and the exhibition of animal ferocity
which ensued was as fearful a thing as the most disordered
imagination could picture。 They tore at each others' eyes
and ears with their hands and with their gleaming tusks
repeatedly slashed and gored until both were cut fairly to
ribbons from head to foot。
Bar Comas had much the better of the battle as he was
stronger； quicker and more intelligent。 It soon seemed that
the encounter was done saving only the final death thrust
when Bar Comas slipped in breaking away from a clinch。 It
was the one little opening that Dak Kova needed； and hurling
himself at the body of his adversary he buried his single
mighty tusk in Bar Comas' groin and with a last powerful
effort ripped the young jeddak wide open the full length of
his body； the great tusk finally wedging in the bones of Bar
Comas' jaw。 Victor and vanquished rolled limp and lifeless
upon the moss； a huge mass of torn and bloody flesh。
Bar Comas was stone dead； and only the most herculean efforts on
the part of Dak Kova's females saved him from the fate he deserved。
Three days later he walked without assistance to the body of Bar
Comas which； by custom； had not been moved from where it fell；
and placing his foot upon the neck of his erstwhile ruler he
assumed the title of Jeddak of Warhoon。
The dead jeddak's hands and head were removed to be added
to the ornaments of his conqueror； and then his women
cremated what remained； amid wild and terrible laughter。
The injuries to Dak Kova had delayed the march so
greatly that it was decided to give up the expedition； which
was a raid upon a small Thark community in retaliation for
the destruction of the incubator； until after the great games；
and the entire body of warriors； ten thousand in number；
turned back toward Warhoon。
My introduction to these cruel and bloodthirsty people
was but an index to the scenes I witnessed almost daily
while with them。 They are a smaller horde than the Tharks
but much more ferocious。 Not a day passed but that some
members of the various Warhoon communities met in deadly
combat。 I have seen as high as eight mortal duels within a
single day。
We reached the city of Warhoon after some three days
march and I was immediately cast into a dungeon and heavily
chained to the floor and walls。 Food was brought me at
intervals but owing to the utter darkness of the place I do not
know whether I lay there days； or weeks； or months。 It was
the most horrible experience of all my life and that my
mind did not give way to the terrors of that inky blackness
has been a wonder to me ever since。 The place was filled
with creeping； crawling things； cold； sinuous bodies passed
over me when I lay down； and in the darkness I occasionally
caught glimpses of gleaming； fiery eyes； fixed in horrible
intentness upon me。 No sound reached me from the world
above and no word would my jailer vouchsafe when my
food was brought to me； although I at first bombarded him
with questions。
Finally all the hatred and maniacal loathing for these
awful creatures who had placed me in this horrible place was
centered by my tottering reason upon this single emissary
who represented to me the entire horde of Warhoons。
I had noticed that he always advanced with his dim
torch to where he could place the food within my reach and
as he stooped to place it upon the floor his head was about
on a level with my breast。 So； with the cunning of a madman；
I backed into the far corner of my cell when next I heard
him approaching and gathering a little slack of the great
chain which held me in my hand I waited his coming；
crouching like some beast of prey。 As he stooped to place
my food upon the ground I swung the chain above my head
and crashed the links with all my strength upon his skull。
Without a sound he slipped to the floor； stone dead。
Laughing and chattering like the idiot I was fast becoming
I fell upon his prostrate form my fingers feeling for his
dead throat。 Presently they came in contact with a small
chain at the end of which dangled a number of keys。 The
touch of my fingers on these keys brought back my reason
with the suddenness of thought。 No longer was I a jibbering
idiot； but a sane； reasoning man with the means of escape
within my very hands。
As I was groping to remove the chain from about my victim's
neck I glanced up into the darkness to see six pairs of gleaming
eyes fixed； unwinking； upon me。 Slowly they approached and slowly
I shrank back from the awful horror of them。 Back into my corner
I crouched holding my hands palms out； before me； and stealthily
on came the awful eyes until they reached the dead body at my feet。
Then slowly they retreated but this time with a strange grating
sound and finally they disappeared in some black and distant recess
of my dungeon。
CHAPTER XIX
BATTLING IN THE ARENA
Slowly I regained my composure and finally essayed again
to attempt to remove the keys from the dead body of my
former jailer。 But as I reached out into the darkness to locate
it I found to my horror that it was gone。 Then the truth
flashed on me； the owners of those gleaming eyes had dragged
my prize away from me to be devoured in their neighboring lair；
as they had been waiting for days； for weeks； for months；
through all this awful eternity of my imprisonment to drag
my dead carcass to their feast。
For two days no food was brought me； but then a new
messenger appeared and my incarceration went on as before；
but not again did I allow my reason to be submerged by the
horror of my position。
Shortly after this episode another prisoner was brought in
and chained near me。 By the dim torch light I saw that he
was a red Martian and I could scarcely await the departure
of his guards to address him。 As their retreating footsteps
died away in the distance； I called out softly the Martian
word of greeting； kaor。
〃Who are you who speaks out of the darkness？〃 he answered
〃John Carter； a friend of the red men of Helium。〃
〃I am of Helium；〃 he said； 〃but I do not recall your name。〃
And then I told him my story as I have written it here；
omitting only any reference to my love for Dejah Thoris。
He was much excited by the news of Helium's princess and
seemed quite positive that she and S