VI. A Fight That Won Friends
The thing pinched me to the ground with one huge foot, while it jabbered and gesticulated at some answering creature behind me. This other came toward us with a mighty stone club in his hands with which it evidently intended to brain[34] me.
The creatures were about ten or fifteen feet tall. Like the green Martians, they had an intermediary set of arms or legs, midway between their upper and lower limbs. Their eyes were close together and non-protruding; their ears were high set. Snouts and teeth were strikingly like those of our African gorilla.
The club was swinging in the arc when my faithful watch-thing hurled itself full upon the breast of my executioner. The ape, which held me, leaped through the open window. Its mate closed in a terrific death struggle with my preserver.
My beast had an advantage in his first hold as he sunk his mighty fangs far into the breast of his adversary. But the great arms and paws of the ape locked the throat of my guardian and slowly were choking out his life. It was evident that the beast was weakening, but so also was the ape. Instinctively I seized the club and crashed it full upon the head of the ape, crushing his skull as it was an eggshell.
The ape's mate recovered from its first shock of terror and returned to the scene of the encounter by way of the interior of the building. I knew the odds were too against me[35]. It is true I held the club, but what could I do with it against the ape's four great arms? I was standing near the window and I knew that once in the street I might gain safety before the creature could overtake me. I turned to jump out of the window but saw my guardian lying and gasping upon the floor of the chamber. His great eyes fastened upon me in what seemed a pitiful appeal for protection. This view threw all thoughts of flight to the four winds.
Without more ado, therefore, I turned to meet the charge of the infuriated bull ape. He was now close to me and I hit him with the club as heavily as I could, just below his knees. Then, when he lost his balance, I swung my right fist full upon the point of his chin and smashed with the left one to the pit of his stomach. He doubled up with pain[36]. I seized the club and finished the monster before he could regain his feet.
As I delivered the blow, a low laugh rang out behind me. It was Tars Tarkas, Sola, and three or four warriors standing in the doorway of the chamber. My eyes met theirs and they applauded.
It turned out that they witnessed my short but decisive battle with the ape. This, together with my jump skills, placed me upon a high pinnacle in their regard. Evidently, these people fairly worship physical prowess and bravery.
Sola was the only one who did not laugh while I battled for my life. She, on the contrary, was sober with apparent solicitude. She rushed to me and carefully examined my body for possible wounds or injuries. Only after making sure I was unharmed, she smiled quietly, and, taking my hand, started toward the door of the chamber.
Tars Tarkas and the other warriors were standing over the brute. They seemed to be deep in argument. Finally, Tars Tarkas gave some command to the fellow with a word and gesture, and turned to follow us from the room. I sensed that something was wrong and hesitated to leave. The warrior drew an evil looking pistol from its holster and intended to shoot the creature. I sprang forward and struck up his arm. The bullet striking the wooden casing of the window exploded, blowing a hole completely through the wood and masonry.
I knelt down beside the fearsome-looking thing and motioned for it to follow me. The looks of surprise the Martians' faces were ludicrous. They could not understand, except in a feeble and childish way, such attributes as gratitude and compassion. The warrior looked enquiringly at Tars Tarkas, but the latter signed to left me to my own devices. We returned to the plaza with my great beast following close at heel, and Sola grasping me tightly by the arm.
I had at least two friends on Mars:a young woman who watched over me with motherly solicitude[37], and a brute which held in its poor ugly carcass love, loyalty and gratitude.
VII. Child-Raising On Mars
After a breakfast which was an exact replica of the meal, Sola escorted me to the plaza. There, the Martians were harnessing huge mastodonian animals to great three-wheeled chariots. The chariots themselves were large, commodious, and gorgeously decorated. A female Martian loaded with ornaments of metal, with jewels and silks and furs was seating in each chariot. The animals wore neither bit nor bridle; the Martians guided them entirely by telepathic means[38]. This power is wonderfully developed in all Martians.
Sola dragged me into an empty chariot and we proceeded with the procession. At the head of the caravan rode some two hundred warriors, five abreast, and a like number brought up the rear, while twenty-five or thirty outriders flanked us on either side. Our way led out across the little valley before the city, through the hills, and down into the dead sea. The incubator, as it proved, was the terminal point of our journey[39] this day. As soon as we reached the level expanse of sea bottom, we were soon within sight of our goal.
On reaching it, the Martians parked the chariots with military precision[40] on the four sides of the enclosure. Tars Tarkas was explaining something to the principal chieftain, whose name was Lorquas Ptomel, Jed; jed was his title. He signed Sola to send me to him. I already mastered the intricacies of walking under Martian conditions and quickly advanced to the side of the incubator where the warriors stood.
As I came to a halt before him, Tars Tarkas pointed over the incubator and said, Sak. I saw that he wanted me to repeat my performance of yesterday in sight of Lorquas Ptomel. I quickly leaped entirely over the parked chariots on the far side of the incubator. As I returned, Lorquas Ptomel grunted something at me, and then gave a few words of command relative to the incubator to his warriors.
Almost all eggs hatched. The incubator was alive with the hideous little devils. The warriors broke an opening in the wall of the incubator, while the women and the younger Martians formed two solid walls leading out through the chariots and quite away in plain beyond[41]. Between these walls the little Martians scampered, wild as deer. The women and older children captured each of them. As the women caught the young, they fell out of line and returned to their respective chariots. Those who fell into the hands of the young men, were later turned over to some of the women.
I saw that the ceremony was over. I started seeking out Sola and found her in our chariot with a hideous little creature held tightly in her arms.
They come from eggs perfectly developed except size. They do not know their mothers, who, in turn, do not know their children. The work of rearing young Martians consists solely in teaching them to talk, and to use the weapons of warfare. From birth, they know no father or mother love. Deformed and defective ones are promptly shot. I believe that horrible system is the direct cause of the loss of all the finer feelings and higher humanitarian instincts among these poor creatures.
By careful selection they rear only the hardiest specimens of each species, and with almost supernatural foresight they regulate the birth rate to merely offset the loss by death.
Each adult Martian female brings forth about thirteen eggs each year. If the eggs meet the size, weight, and specific gravity tests, the Martians hide them in the recesses of some subterranean vault. The temperature there is too low for incubation. Every year a council of twenty chieftains examine these eggs carefully. All but about one hundred of the most perfect are destroyed out of each yearly supply. The perfect eggs are placed in the almost air-tight incubators to be hatched by the sun's rays after a period of another five years.