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A PRINCESS OF MARS



by Edgar Rice Burroughs








CHAPTER I









ON THE ARIZONA HILLS





I am a very old man; how old I do not know。  Possibly I am

a hundred; possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have

never aged as other men; nor do I remember any childhood。

So far as I can recollect I have always been a man; a man

of about thirty。  I appear today as I did forty years and

more ago; and yet I feel that I cannot go on living forever;

that some day I shall die the real death from which there is

no resurrection。  I do not know why I should fear death;

I who have died twice and am still alive; but yet I have the

same horror of it as you who have never died; and it is

because of this terror of death; I believe; that I am so

convinced of my mortality。



And because of this conviction I have determined to write

down the story of the interesting periods of my life and of

my death。  I cannot explain the phenomena;I can only set

down here in the words of an ordinary soldier of fortune a

chronicle of the strange events that befell me during the ten

years that my dead body lay undiscovered in an Arizona

cave。



I have never told this story; nor shall mortal man see this

manuscript until after I have passed over for eternity。  I know

that the average human mind will not believe what it cannot

grasp; and so I do not purpose being pilloried by the public;

the pulpit; and the press; and held up as a colossal

liar when I am but telling the simple truths which some day

science will substantiate。  Possibly the suggestions which I

gained upon Mars; and the knowledge which I can set down

in this chronicle; will aid in an earlier understanding of the

mysteries of our sister planet; mysteries to you; but no

longer mysteries to me。



My name is John Carter; I am better known as Captain Jack

Carter of Virginia。  At the close of the Civil War I found

myself possessed of several hundred thousand dollars

(Confederate) and a captain's commission in the cavalry arm

of an army which no longer existed; the servant of a state

which had vanished with the hopes of the South。  Masterless;

penniless; and with my only means of livelihood; fighting;

gone; I determined to work my way to the southwest and

attempt to retrieve my fallen fortunes in a search for gold。



I spent nearly a year prospecting in company with another

Confederate officer; Captain James K。 Powell of Richmond。

We were extremely fortunate; for late in the winter of

1865; after many hardships and privations; we located the

most remarkable gold…bearing quartz vein that our wildest

dreams had ever pictured。  Powell; who was a mining engineer

by education; stated that we had uncovered over a million

dollars worth of ore in a trifle over three months。



As our equipment was crude in the extreme we decided

that one of us must return to civilization; purchase the

necessary machinery and return with a sufficient force of

men properly to work the mine。



As Powell was familiar with the country; as well as with

the mechanical requirements of mining we determined that

it would be best for him to make the trip。  It was agreed that

I was to hold down our claim against the remote possibility

of its being jumped by some wandering prospector。



On March 3; 1866; Powell and I packed his provisions on

two of our burros; and bidding me good…bye he mounted

his horse; and started down the mountainside toward the

valley; across which led the first stage of his journey。



The morning of Powell's departure was; like nearly

all Arizona mornings; clear and beautiful; I could see

him and his little pack animals picking their way down the

mountainside toward the valley; and all during the morning I

would catch occasional glimpses of them as they topped a hog

back or came out upon a level plateau。  My last sight of

Powell was about three in the afternoon as he entered the

shadows of the range on the opposite side of the valley。



Some half hour later I happened to glance casually across

the valley and was much surprised to note three little dots

in about the same place I had last seen my friend and his

two pack animals。  I am not given to needless worrying; but

the more I tried to convince myself that all was well with

Powell; and that the dots I had seen on his trail were

antelope or wild horses; the less I was able to assure myself。



Since we had entered the territory we had not seen a

hostile Indian; and we had; therefore; become careless in the

extreme; and were wont to ridicule the stories we had

heard of the great numbers of these vicious marauders that

were supposed to haunt the trails; taking their toll in lives

and torture of every white party which fell into their

merciless clutches。



Powell; I knew; was well armed and; further; an

experienced Indian fighter; but I too had lived and fought

for years among the Sioux in the North; and I knew that his

chances were small against a party of cunning trailing

Apaches。  Finally I could endure the suspense no longer;

and; arming myself with my two Colt revolvers and a

carbine; I strapped two belts of cartridges about me and

catching my saddle horse; started down the trail taken by

Powell in the morning。



As soon as I reached comparatively level ground I urged

my mount into a canter and continued this; where the going

permitted; until; close upon dusk; I discovered the point

where other tracks joined those of Powell。  They were the

tracks of unshod ponies; three of them; and the ponies had


been galloping。



I followed rapidly until; darkness shutting down; I was

forced to await the rising of the moon; and given an opportunity

to speculate on the question of the wisdom of my chase。

Possibly I had conjured up impossible dangers; like

some nervous old housewife; and when I should catch up

with Powell would get a good laugh for my pains。

However; I am not prone to sensitiveness; and the following

of a sense of duty; wherever it may lead; has always been a

kind of fetich with me throughout my life; which may account

for the honors bestowed upon me by three republics and the

decorations and friendships of an old and powerful emperor

and several lesser kings; in whose service my sword has

been red many a time。



About nine o'clock the moon was sufficiently bright for

me to proceed on my way and I had no difficulty in following

the trail at a fast walk; and in some places at a brisk

trot until; about midnight; I reached the water hole where

Powell had expected to camp。  I came upon the spot unexpectedly;

finding it entirely deserted; with no signs of having been

recently occupied as a camp。



I was interested to note that the tracks of the pursuing

horsemen; for such I was now convinced they must be; continued

after Powell with only a brief stop at the hole for water;

and always at the same rate of speed as his。



I was positive now that the trailers were Apaches and that

they wished to capture Powell alive for the fiendish pleasure

of the torture; so I urged my horse onward at a most

dangerous pace; hoping against hope that I would catch up

with the red rascals before they attacked him。



Further speculation was suddenly cut short by the faint

report of two shots far ahead of me。  I knew that Powell

would need me now if ever; and I instantly urged my

horse to his topmost speed up the narrow and difficult

mountain trail。



I had forged ahead for perhaps a mile or more without

hearing further sounds; when the trail suddenly debouched

onto a small; open plateau near the summit of the pass。  I

had passed through a narrow; overhanging gorge just before

entering suddenly upon this table land; and the sight which

met my eyes filled me with consternation and dismay。



The little stretch of level land was white with Indian

tepees; and there were probably half a thousand red warriors

clustered arou

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