The Black Pirates Of Barsoom

: The Gods Of Mars

"What is it?" I asked of the girl.



For answer she pointed to the sky.



I looked, and there, above us, I saw shadowy bodies flitting hither and

thither high over temple, court, and garden.



Almost immediately flashes of light broke from these strange objects.

There was a roar of musketry, and then answering flashes and roars from

temple and rampart.



"The
black pirates of Barsoom, O Prince," said Thuvia.



In great circles the air craft of the marauders swept lower and lower

toward the defending forces of the therns.



Volley after volley they vomited upon the temple guards; volley on

volley crashed through the thin air toward the fleeting and illusive

fliers.



As the pirates swooped closer toward the ground, thern soldiery poured

from the temples into the gardens and courts. The sight of them in the

open brought a score of fliers darting toward us from all directions.



The therns fired upon them through shields affixed to their rifles, but

on, steadily on, came the grim, black craft. They were small fliers

for the most part, built for two to three men. A few larger ones there

were, but these kept high aloft dropping bombs upon the temples from

their keel batteries.



At length, with a concerted rush, evidently in response to a signal of

command, the pirates in our immediate vicinity dashed recklessly to the

ground in the very midst of the thern soldiery.



Scarcely waiting for their craft to touch, the creatures manning them

leaped among the therns with the fury of demons. Such fighting! Never

had I witnessed its like before. I had thought the green Martians the

most ferocious warriors in the universe, but the awful abandon with

which the black pirates threw themselves upon their foes transcended

everything I ever before had seen.



Beneath the brilliant light of Mars' two glorious moons the whole scene

presented itself in vivid distinctness. The golden-haired,

white-skinned therns battling with desperate courage in hand-to-hand

conflict with their ebony-skinned foemen.



Here a little knot of struggling warriors trampled a bed of gorgeous

pimalia; there the curved sword of a black man found the heart of a

thern and left its dead foeman at the foot of a wondrous statue carved

from a living ruby; yonder a dozen therns pressed a single pirate back

upon a bench of emerald, upon whose iridescent surface a strangely

beautiful Barsoomian design was traced out in inlaid diamonds.



A little to one side stood Thuvia, the Thark, and I. The tide of

battle had not reached us, but the fighters from time to time swung

close enough that we might distinctly note them.



The black pirates interested me immensely. I had heard vague rumours,

little more than legends they were, during my former life on Mars; but

never had I seen them, nor talked with one who had.



They were popularly supposed to inhabit the lesser moon, from which

they descended upon Barsoom at long intervals. Where they visited they

wrought the most horrible atrocities, and when they left carried away

with them firearms and ammunition, and young girls as prisoners. These

latter, the rumour had it, they sacrificed to some terrible god in an

orgy which ended in the eating of their victims.



I had an excellent opportunity to examine them, as the strife

occasionally brought now one and now another close to where I stood.

They were large men, possibly six feet and over in height. Their

features were clear cut and handsome in the extreme; their eyes were

well set and large, though a slight narrowness lent them a crafty

appearance; the iris, as well as I could determine by moonlight, was of

extreme blackness, while the eyeball itself was quite white and clear.

The physical structure of their bodies seemed identical with those of

the therns, the red men, and my own. Only in the colour of their skin

did they differ materially from us; that is of the appearance of

polished ebony, and odd as it may seem for a Southerner to say it, adds

to rather than detracts from their marvellous beauty.



But if their bodies are divine, their hearts, apparently, are quite the

reverse. Never did I witness such a malign lust for blood as these

demons of the outer air evinced in their mad battle with the therns.



All about us in the garden lay their sinister craft, which the therns

for some reason, then unaccountable to me, made no effort to injure.

Now and again a black warrior would rush from a near by temple bearing

a young woman in his arms. Straight for his flier he would leap while

those of his comrades who fought near by would rush to cover his escape.



The therns on their side would hasten to rescue the girl, and in an

instant the two would be swallowed in the vortex of a maelstrom of

yelling devils, hacking and hewing at one another, like fiends

incarnate.



But always, it seemed, were the black pirates of Barsoom victorious,

and the girl, brought miraculously unharmed through the conflict, borne

away into the outer darkness upon the deck of a swift flier.



Fighting similar to that which surrounded us could be heard in both

directions as far as sound carried, and Thuvia told me that the attacks

of the black pirates were usually made simultaneously along the entire

ribbon-like domain of the therns, which circles the Valley Dor on the

outer slopes of the Mountains of Otz.



As the fighting receded from our position for a moment, Thuvia turned

toward me with a question.



"Do you understand now, O Prince," she said, "why a million warriors

guard the domains of the Holy Therns by day and by night?"



"The scene you are witnessing now is but a repetition of what I have

seen enacted a score of times during the fifteen years I have been a

prisoner here. From time immemorial the black pirates of Barsoom have

preyed upon the Holy Therns.



"Yet they never carry their expeditions to a point, as one might

readily believe it was in their power to do, where the extermination of

the race of therns is threatened. It is as though they but utilized

the race as playthings, with which they satisfy their ferocious lust

for fighting; and from whom they collect toll in arms and ammunition

and in prisoners."



"Why don't they jump in and destroy these fliers?" I asked. "That

would soon put a stop to the attacks, or at least the blacks would

scarce be so bold. Why, see how perfectly unguarded they leave their

craft, as though they were lying safe in their own hangars at home."



"The therns do not dare. They tried it once, ages ago, but the next

night and for a whole moon thereafter a thousand great black

battleships circled the Mountains of Otz, pouring tons of projectiles

upon the temples, the gardens, and the courts, until every thern who

was not killed was driven for safety into the subterranean galleries.



"The therns know that they live at all only by the sufferance of the

black men. They were near to extermination that once and they will not

venture risking it again."



As she ceased talking a new element was instilled into the conflict.

It came from a source equally unlooked for by either thern or pirate.

The great banths which we had liberated in the garden had evidently

been awed at first by the sound of the battle, the yelling of the

warriors and the loud report of rifle and bomb.



But now they must have become angered by the continuous noise and

excited by the smell of new blood, for all of a sudden a great form

shot from a clump of low shrubbery into the midst of a struggling mass

of humanity. A horrid scream of bestial rage broke from the banth as

he felt warm flesh beneath his powerful talons.



As though his cry was but a signal to the others, the entire great pack

hurled themselves among the fighters. Panic reigned in an instant.

Thern and black man turned alike against the common enemy, for the

banths showed no partiality toward either.



The awful beasts bore down a hundred men by the mere weight of their

great bodies as they hurled themselves into the thick of the fight.

Leaping and clawing, they mowed down the warriors with their powerful

paws, turning for an instant to rend their victims with frightful fangs.



The scene was fascinating in its terribleness, but suddenly it came to

me that we were wasting valuable time watching this conflict, which in

itself might prove a means of our escape.



The therns were so engaged with their terrible assailants that now, if

ever, escape should be comparatively easy. I turned to search for an

opening through the contending hordes. If we could but reach the

ramparts we might find that the pirates somewhere had thinned the

guarding forces and left a way open to us to the world without.



As my eyes wandered about the garden, the sight of the hundreds of air

craft lying unguarded around us suggested the simplest avenue to

freedom. Why it had not occurred to me before! I was thoroughly

familiar with the mechanism of every known make of flier on Barsoom.

For nine years I had sailed and fought with the navy of Helium. I had

raced through space on the tiny one-man air scout and I had commanded

the greatest battleship that ever had floated in the thin air of dying

Mars.



To think, with me, is to act. Grasping Thuvia by the arm, I whispered

to Tars Tarkas to follow me. Quickly we glided toward a small flier

which lay furthest from the battling warriors. Another instant found

us huddled on the tiny deck. My hand was on the starting lever. I

pressed my thumb upon the button which controls the ray of repulsion,

that splendid discovery of the Martians which permits them to navigate

the thin atmosphere of their planet in huge ships that dwarf the

dreadnoughts of our earthly navies into pitiful significance.



The craft swayed slightly but she did not move. Then a new cry of

warning broke upon our ears. Turning, I saw a dozen black pirates

dashing toward us from the melee. We had been discovered. With

shrieks of rage the demons sprang for us. With frenzied insistence I

continued to press the little button which should have sent us racing

out into space, but still the vessel refused to budge. Then it came to

me--the reason that she would not rise.



We had stumbled upon a two-man flier. Its ray tanks were charged only

with sufficient repulsive energy to lift two ordinary men. The Thark's

great weight was anchoring us to our doom.



The blacks were nearly upon us. There was not an instant to be lost in

hesitation or doubt.



I pressed the button far in and locked it. Then I set the lever at

high speed and as the blacks came yelling upon us I slipped from the

craft's deck and with drawn long-sword met the attack.



At the same moment a girl's shriek rang out behind me and an instant

later, as the blacks fell upon me. I heard far above my head, and

faintly, in Thuvia's voice: "My Prince, O my Prince; I would rather

remain and die with--" But the rest was lost in the noise of my

assailants.



I knew though that my ruse had worked and that temporarily at least

Thuvia and Tars Tarkas were safe, and the means of escape was theirs.



For a moment it seemed that I could not withstand the weight of numbers

that confronted me, but again, as on so many other occasions when I had

been called upon to face fearful odds upon this planet of warriors and

fierce beasts, I found that my earthly strength so far transcended that

of my opponents that the odds were not so greatly against me as they

appeared.



My seething blade wove a net of death about me. For an instant the

blacks pressed close to reach me with their shorter swords, but

presently they gave back, and the esteem in which they suddenly had

learned to hold my sword arm was writ large upon each countenance.



I knew though that it was but a question of minutes before their

greater numbers would wear me down, or get around my guard. I must go

down eventually to certain death before them. I shuddered at the

thought of it, dying thus in this terrible place where no word of my

end ever could reach my Dejah Thoris. Dying at the hands of nameless

black men in the gardens of the cruel therns.



Then my old-time spirit reasserted itself. The fighting blood of my

Virginian sires coursed hot through my veins. The fierce blood lust

and the joy of battle surged over me. The fighting smile that has

brought consternation to a thousand foemen touched my lips. I put the

thought of death out of my mind, and fell upon my antagonists with fury

that those who escaped will remember to their dying day.



That others would press to the support of those who faced me I knew, so

even as I fought I kept my wits at work, searching for an avenue of

escape.



It came from an unexpected quarter out of the black night behind me. I

had just disarmed a huge fellow who had given me a desperate struggle,

and for a moment the blacks stood back for a breathing spell.



They eyed me with malignant fury, yet withal there was a touch of

respect in their demeanour.



"Thern," said one, "you fight like a Dator. But for your detestable

yellow hair and your white skin you would be an honour to the First

Born of Barsoom."



"I am no thern," I said, and was about to explain that I was from

another world, thinking that by patching a truce with these fellows and

fighting with them against the therns I might enlist their aid in

regaining my liberty. But just at that moment a heavy object smote me

a resounding whack between my shoulders that nearly felled me to the

ground.



As I turned to meet this new enemy an object passed over my shoulder,

striking one of my assailants squarely in the face and knocking him

senseless to the sward. At the same instant I saw that the thing that

had struck us was the trailing anchor of a rather fair-sized air

vessel; possibly a ten man cruiser.



The ship was floating slowly above us, not more than fifty feet over

our heads. Instantly the one chance for escape that it offered

presented itself to me. The vessel was slowly rising and now the

anchor was beyond the blacks who faced me and several feet above their

heads.



With a bound that left them gaping in wide-eyed astonishment I sprang

completely over them. A second leap carried me just high enough to

grasp the now rapidly receding anchor.



But I was successful, and there I hung by one hand, dragging through

the branches of the higher vegetation of the gardens, while my late

foemen shrieked and howled beneath me.



Presently the vessel veered toward the west and then swung gracefully

to the south. In another instant I was carried beyond the crest of the

Golden Cliffs, out over the Valley Dor, where, six thousand feet below

me, the Lost Sea of Korus lay shimmering in the moonlight.



Carefully I climbed to a sitting posture across the anchor's arms. I

wondered if by chance the vessel might be deserted. I hoped so. Or

possibly it might belong to a friendly people, and have wandered by

accident almost within the clutches of the pirates and the therns. The

fact that it was retreating from the scene of battle lent colour to

this hypothesis.



But I decided to know positively, and at once, so, with the greatest

caution, I commenced to climb slowly up the anchor chain toward the

deck above me.



One hand had just reached for the vessel's rail and found it when a

fierce black face was thrust over the side and eyes filled with

triumphant hate looked into mine.



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