The Chessmen of Mars

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CHAPTER VII

  A REPELLENT SIGHT

  The cruiser Vanator careened through the tempest. That she had not beendashed to the ground, or twisted by the force of the elements intotangled wreckage, was due entirely to the caprice of Nature. For allthe duration of the storm she rode, a helpless derelict, upon thosestorm-tossed waves of wind. But for all the dangers and vicissitudesthey underwent, she and her crew might have borne charmed lives up towithin an hour of the abating of the hurricane. It was then that thecatastrophe occurred--a catastrophe indeed to the crew of the Vanatorand the kingdom of Gathol.

  The men had been without food or drink since leaving Helium, and theyhad been hurled about and buffeted in their lashings until all wereworn to exhaustion. There was a brief lull in the storm during whichone of the crew attempted to reach his quarters, after releasing thelashings which had held him to the precarious safety of the deck. Theact in itself was a direct violation of orders and, in the eyes of theother members of the crew, the effect, which came with startlingsuddenness, took the form of a swift and terrible retribution. Scarcehad the man released the safety snaps ere a swift arm of thestorm-monster encircled the ship, rolling it over and over, with theresult that the foolhardy warrior went overboard at the first turn.

  Unloosed from their lashing by the constant turning and twisting of theship and the force of the wind, the boarding and landing tackle hadbeen trailing beneath the keel, a tangled mass of cordage and leather.Upon the occasions that the Vanator rolled completely over, thesethings would be wrapped around her until another revolution in theopposite direction, or the wind itself, carried them once again clearof the deck to trail, whipping in the storm, beneath the hurtling ship.

  Into this fell the body of the warrior, and as a drowning man clutchesat a straw so the fellow clutched at the tangled cordage that caughthim and arrested his fall. With the strength of desperation he clung tothe cordage, seeking frantically to entangle his legs and body in it.With each jerk of the ship his hand holds were all but torn loose, andthough he knew that eventually they would be and that he must be dashedto the ground beneath, yet he fought with the madness that is born ofhopelessness for the pitiful second which but prolonged his agony.

  It was upon this sight then that Gahan of Gathol looked, over the edgeof the careening deck of the Vanator, as he sought to learn the fate ofhis warrior. Lashed to the gunwale close at hand a single landingleather that had not fouled the tangled mass beneath whipped free fromthe ship's side, the hook snapping at its outer end. The Jed of Gatholgrasped the situation in a single glance. Below him one of his peoplelooked into the eyes of Death. To the jed's hand lay the means forsuccor.

  There was no instant's hesitation. Casting off his deck lashings, heseized the landing leather and slipped over the ship's side. Swinginglike a bob upon a mad pendulum he swung far out and back again, turningand twisting three thousand feet above the surface of Barsoom, andthen, at last, the thing he had hoped for occurred. He was carriedwithin reach of the cordage where the warrior still clung, though withrapidly diminishing strength. Catching one leg on a loop of the tangledstrands Gahan pulled himself close enough to seize another quite nearto the fellow. Clinging precariously to this new hold the jed slowlydrew in the landing leather, down which he had clambered until he couldgrasp the hook at its end. This he fastened to a ring in the warrior'sharness, just before the man's weakened fingers slipped from their holdupon the cordage.

  Temporarily, at least, he had saved the life of his subject, and now heturned his attention toward insuring his own safety. Inextricablyentangled in the mess to which he was clinging were numerous otherlanding hooks such as he had attached to the warrior's harness, andwith one of these he sought to secure himself until the storm shouldabate sufficiently to permit him to climb to the deck, but even as hereached for one that swung near him the ship was caught in a renewedburst of the storm's fury, the thrashing cordage whipped and snapped tothe lunging of the great craft and one of the heavy metal hooks,lashing through the air, struck the Jed of Gathol fair between the eyes.

  Momentarily stunned, Gahan's fingers slipped from their hold upon thecordage and the man shot downward through the thin air of dying Marstoward the ground three thousand feet beneath, while upon the deck ofthe rolling Vanator his faithful warriors clung to their lashings allunconscious of the fate of their beloved leader; nor was it until morethan an hour later, after the storm had materially subsided, that theyrealized he was lost, or knew the self-sacrificing heroism of the actthat had sealed his doom. The Vanator now rested upon an even keel asshe was carried along by a strong, though steady, wind. The warriorshad cast off their deck lashings and the officers were taking accountof losses and damage when a weak cry was heard from oversides,attracting their attention to the man hanging in the cordage beneaththe keel. Strong arms hoisted him to the deck and then it was that thecrew of the Vanator learned of the heroism of their jed and his end.How far they had traveled since his loss they could only vaguely guess,nor could they return in search of him in the disabled condition of theship. It was a saddened company that drifted onward through the airtoward whatever destination Fate was to choose for them.

  And Gahan, Jed of Gathol--what of him? Plummet-like he fell for athousand feet and then the storm seized him in its giant clutch andbore him far aloft again. As a bit of paper borne upon a gale he wastossed about in mid-air, the sport and plaything of the wind. Over andover it turned him and upward and downward it carried him, but aftereach new sally of the element he was brought nearer to the ground. Thefreaks of cyclonic storms are the rule of cyclonic storms, sincesuch storms are in themselves freaks. They uproot and demolishgiant trees, and in the same gust they transport frail infants formiles and deposit them unharmed in their wake.

  And so it was with Gahan of Gathol. Expecting momentarily to be dashedto destruction he presently found himself deposited gently upon thesoft, ochre moss of a dead sea-bottom, bodily no worse off for hisharrowing adventure than in the possession of a slight swelling uponhis forehead where the metal hook had struck him. Scarcely able tobelieve that Fate had dealt thus gently with him, the jed arose slowly,as though more than half convinced that he should discover crushed andsplintered bones that would not support his weight. But he was intact.He looked about him in a vain effort at orientation. The air was filledwith flying dust and debris. The Sun was obliterated. His vision wasconfined to a radius of a few hundred yards of ochre moss anddust-filled air. Five hundred yards away in any direction there mighthave arisen the walls of a great city and he not known it. It wasuseless to move from where he was until the air cleared, since he couldnot know in what direction he was moving, and so he stretched himselfupon the moss and waited, pondering the fate of his warriors and hisship, but giving little thought to his own precarious situation.

  Lashed to his harness were his swords, his pistols, and a dagger, andin his pocket-pouch a small quantity of the concentrated rations thatform a part of the equipment of the fighting men of Barsoom. Thesethings together with trained muscles, high courage, and an undauntedspirit sufficed him for whatever misadventures might lie between himand Gathol, which lay in what direction he knew not, nor at whatdistance.

  The wind was falling rapidly and with it the dust that obscured thelandscape. That the storm was over he was convinced, but he chafed atthe inactivity the low visibility put upon him, nor did conditionsbetter materially before night fell, so that he was forced to await thenew day at the very spot at which the tempest had deposited him.Without his sleeping silks and furs he spent a far from comfortablenight, and it was with feelings of unmixed relief that he saw thesudden dawn burst upon him. The air was now clear and in the light ofthe new day he saw an undulating plain stretching in all directionsabout him, while to the northwest there were barely discernible theoutlines of low hills. Toward the southeast of Gathol was such acountry, and as Gahan surmised the direction and the velocity of thestorm to have carried him somewhere in the vicinity of the country hethought he recognized,
he assumed that Gathol lay behind the hills henow saw, whereas, in reality, it lay far to the northeast.

  It was two days before Gahan had crossed the plain and reached thesummit of the hills from which he hoped to see his own country, only tomeet at last with disappointment. Before him stretched another plain,of even greater proportions than that he had but just crossed, andbeyond this other hills. In one material respect this plain differedfrom that behind him in that it was dotted with occasional isolatedhills. Convinced, however, that Gathol lay somewhere in the directionof his search he descended into the valley and bent his steps towardthe northwest.

  For weeks Gahan of Gathol crossed valleys and hills in search of somefamiliar landmark that might point his way toward his native land, butthe summit of each succeeding ridge revealed but another unfamiliarview. He saw few animals and no men, until he finally came to thebelief that he had fallen upon that fabled area of ancient Barsoomwhich lay under the curse of her olden gods--the once rich and fertilecountry whose people in their pride and arrogance had denied thedeities, and whose punishment had been extermination.

  And then, one day, he scaled low hills and looked into an inhabitedvalley--a valley of trees and cultivated fields and plots of groundenclosed by stone walls surrounding strange towers. He saw peopleworking in the fields, but he did not rush down to greet them. First hemust know more of them and whether they might be assumed to be friendsor enemies. Hidden by concealing shrubbery he crawled to a vantagepoint upon a hill that projected further into the valley, and here helay upon his belly watching the workers closest to him. They were stillquite a distance from him and he could not be quite sure of them, butthere was something verging upon the unnatural about them. Their headsseemed out of proportion to their bodies--too large.

  For a long time he lay watching them and ever more forcibly it wasborne in upon his consciousness that they were not as he, and that itwould be rash to trust himself among them. Presently he saw a coupleappear from the nearest enclosure and slowly approach those who wereworking nearest to the hill where he lay in hiding. Immediately he wasaware that one of these differed from all the others. Even at thegreater distance he noted that the head was smaller and as theyapproached, he was confident that the harness of one of them was not asthe harness of its companion or of that of any of those who tilled thefields.

  The two stopped often, apparently in argument, as though one wouldproceed in the direction that they were going while the other demurred.But each time the smaller won reluctant consent from the other, and sothey came closer and closer to the last line of workers toiling betweenthe enclosure from which they had come and the hill where Gahan ofGathol lay watching, and then suddenly the smaller figure struck itscompanion full in the face. Gahan, horrified, saw the latter's headtopple from its body, saw the body stagger and fall to the ground. Theman half rose from his concealment the better to view the happening inthe valley below. The creature that had felled its companion wasdashing madly in the direction of the hill upon which he was hidden, itdodged one of the workers that sought to seize it. Gahan hoped that itwould gain its liberty, why he did not know other than at closer rangeit had every appearance of being a creature of his own race. Then hesaw it stumble and go down and instantly its pursuers were upon it.Then it was that Gahan's eyes chanced to return to the figure of thecreature the fugitive had felled.

  What horror was this that he was witnessing? Or were his eyes playingsome ghastly joke upon him? No, impossible though it was--it wastrue--the head was moving slowly to the fallen body. It placed itselfupon the shoulders, the body rose, and the creature, seemingly as goodas new, ran quickly to where its fellows were dragging the haplesscaptive to its feet.

  The watcher saw the creature take its prisoner by the arm and lead itback to the enclosure, and even across the distance that separated themfrom him he could note dejection and utter hopelessness in the bearingof the prisoner, and, too, he was half convinced that it was a woman,perhaps a red Martian of his own race. Could he be sure that this wastrue he must make some effort to rescue her even though the customs ofhis strange world required it only in case she was of his own country;but he was not sure; she might not be a red Martian at all, or, if shewere, it was as possible that she sprang from an enemy people as not.His first duty was to return to his own people with as little personalrisk as possible, and though the thought of adventure stirred his bloodhe put the temptation aside with a sigh and turned away from thepeaceful and beautiful valley that he longed to enter, for it was hisintention to skirt its eastern edge and continue his search for Gatholbeyond.

  As Gahan of Gathol turned his steps along the southern slopes of thehills that bound Bantoom upon the south and east, his attention wasattracted toward a small cluster of trees a short distance to hisright. The low sun was casting long shadows. It would soon be night.The trees were off the path that he had chosen and he had little mindto be diverted from his way; but as he looked again he hesitated. Therewas something there besides boles of trees, and underbrush. There weresuggestions of familiar lines of the handicraft of man. Gahan stoppedand strained his eyes in the direction of the thing that had arrestedhis attention. No, he must be mistaken--the branches of the trees and alow bush had taken on an unnatural semblance in the horizontal rays ofthe setting sun. He turned and continued upon his way; but as he castanother side glance in the direction of the object of his interest, thesun's rays were shot back into his eyes from a glistening point ofradiance among the trees.

  Gahan shook his head and walked quickly toward the mystery, determinednow to solve it. The shining object still lured him on and when he hadcome closer to it his eyes went wide in surprise, for the thing theysaw was naught else than the jewel-encrusted emblem upon the prow of asmall flier. Gahan, his hand upon his short-sword, moved silentlyforward, but as he neared the craft he saw that he had naught to fear,for it was deserted. Then he turned his attention toward the emblem. Asits significance was flashed to his understanding his face paled andhis heart went cold--it was the insignia of the house of The Warlord ofBarsoom. Instantly he saw the dejected figure of the captive being ledback to her prison in the valley just beyond the hills. Tara of Helium!And he had been so near to deserting her to her fate. The cold sweatstood in beads upon his brow.

  A hasty examination of the deserted craft unfolded to the young jed thewhole tragic story. The same tempest that had proved his undoing hadborne Tara of Helium to this distant country. Here, doubtless, she hadlanded in hope of obtaining food and water since, without a propellor,she could not hope to reach her native city, or any other friendlyport, other than by the merest caprice of Fate. The flier seemed intactexcept for the missing propellor and the fact that it had beencarefully moored in the shelter of the clump of trees indicated thatthe girl had expected to return to it, while the dust and leaves uponits deck spoke of the long days, and even weeks, since she had landed.Mute yet eloquent proofs, these things, that Tara of Helium was aprisoner, and that she was the very prisoner whose bold dash forliberty he had so recently witnessed he now had not the slightest doubt.

  The question now revolved solely about her rescue. He knew to whichtower she had been taken--that much and no more. Of the number, thekind, or the disposition of her captors he knew nothing; nor did hecare--for Tara of Helium he would face a hostile world alone. Rapidlyhe considered several plans for succoring her; but the one thatappealed most strongly to him was that which offered the greatestchance of escape for the girl should he be successful in reaching her.His decision reached he turned his attention quickly toward the flier.Casting off its lashings he dragged it out from beneath the trees, and,mounting to the deck tested out the various controls. The motor startedat a touch and purred sweetly, the buoyancy tanks were well stocked,and the ship answered perfectly to the controls which regulated heraltitude. There was nothing needed but a propellor to make her fit forthe long voyage to Helium. Gahan shrugged impatiently--there must notbe a propellor within a thousand haads. But what mattered it? The crafteven without a
propellor would still answer the purpose his planrequired of it--provided the captors of Tara of Helium were a peoplewithout ships, and he had seen nothing to suggest that they had ships.The architecture of their towers and enclosures assured him that theyhad not.

  The sudden Barsoomian night had fallen. Cluros rode majestically thehigh heavens. The rumbling roar of a banth reverberated among thehills. Gahan of Gathol let the ship rise a few feet from the ground,then, seizing a bow rope, he dropped over the side. To tow the littlecraft was now a thing of ease, and as Gahan moved rapidly toward thebrow of the hill above Bantoom the flier floated behind him as lightlyas a swan upon a quiet lake. Now down the hill toward the tower dimlyvisible in the moonlight the Gatholian turned his steps. Closer behindhim sounded the roar of the hunting banth. He wondered if the beastsought him or was following some other spoor. He could not be delayednow by any hungry beast of prey, for what might that very instant bebefalling Tara of Helium he could not guess; and so he hastened hissteps. But closer and closer came the horrid screams of the greatcarnivore, and now he heard the swift fall of padded feet upon thehillside behind him. He glanced back just in time to see the beastbreak into a rapid charge. His hand leaped to the hilt of hislong-sword, but he did not draw, for in the same instant he saw thefutility of armed resistance, since behind the first banth came a herdof at least a dozen others. There was but a single alternative to afutile stand and that he grasped in the instant that he saw theoverwhelming numbers of his antagonists.

  Springing lightly from the ground he swarmed up the rope toward the bowof the flier. His weight drew the craft slightly lower and at the veryinstant that the man drew himself to the deck at the bow of the vessel,the leading banth sprang for the stern. Gahan leaped to his feet andrushed toward the great beast in the hope of dislodging it before ithad succeeded in clambering aboard. At the same instant he saw thatothers of the banths were racing toward them with the quite evidentintention of following their leader to the ship's deck. Should theyreach it in any numbers he would be lost. There was but a single hope.Leaping for the altitude control Gahan pulled it wide. Simultaneouslythree banths leaped for the deck. The craft rose swiftly. Gahan feltthe impact of a body against the keel, followed by the soft thuds ofthe great bodies as they struck the ground beneath. His act had notbeen an instant too soon. And now the leader had gained the deck andstood at the stern with glaring eyes and snarling jaws. Gahan drew hissword. The beast, possibly disconcerted by the novelty of its position,did not charge. Instead it crept slowly toward its intended prey. Thecraft was rising and Gahan placed a foot upon the control and stoppedthe ascent. He did not wish to chance rising to some higher air currentthat would bear him away. Already the craft was moving slowly towardthe tower, carried thither by the impetus of the banth's heavy bodyleaping upon it from astern.

  The man watched the slow approach of the monster, the slavering jowls,the malignant expression of the devilish face. The creature, findingthe deck stable, appeared to be gaining confidence, and then the manleaped suddenly to one side of the deck and the tiny flier heeled assuddenly in response. The banth slipped and clutched frantically at thedeck. Gahan leaped in with his naked sword; the great beast caughtitself and reared upon its hind legs to reach forth and seize thispresumptuous mortal that dared question its right to the flesh itcraved; and then the man sprang to the opposite side of the deck. Thebanth toppled sideways at the same instant that it attempted to spring;a raking talon passed close to Gahan's head at the moment that hissword lunged through the savage heart, and as the warrior wrenched hisblade from the carcass it slipped silently over the side of the ship.

  A glance below showed that the vessel was drifting in the direction ofthe tower to which Gahan had seen the prisoner led. In another momentor two it would be directly over it. The man sprang to the control andlet the craft drop quickly toward the ground where followed the banths,still hot for their prey. To land outside the enclosure spelled certaindeath, while inside he could see many forms huddled upon the ground asin sleep. The ship floated now but a few feet above the wall of theenclosure. There was nothing for it but to risk all on a bold bid forfortune, or drift helplessly past without hope of returning through thebanth-infested valley, from many points of which he could now hear theroars and growls of these fierce Barsoomian lions.

  Slipping over the side Gahan descended by the trailing anchor-ropeuntil his feet touched the top of the wall, where he had no difficultyin arresting the slow drifting of the ship. Then he drew up the anchorand lowered it inside the enclosure. Still there was no movement uponthe part of the sleepers beneath--they lay as dead men. Dull lightsshone from openings in the tower; but there was no sign of guard orwaking inmate. Clinging to the rope Gahan lowered himself within theenclosure, where he had his first close view of the creatures lyingthere in what he had thought sleep. With a half smothered exclamationof horror the man drew back from the headless bodies of the rykors. Atfirst he thought them the corpses of decapitated humans like himself,which was quite bad enough; but when he saw them move and realized thatthey were endowed with life, his horror and disgust became even greater.

  Here then was the explanation of the thing he had witnessed thatafternoon, when Tara of Helium had struck the head from her captor andGahan had seen the head crawl back to its body. And to think that thepearl of Helium was in the power of such hideous things as these. Againthe man shuddered, but he hastened to make fast the flier, clamberagain to its deck and lower it to the floor of the enclosure. Thenhe strode toward a door in the base of the tower, stepping lightlyover the recumbent forms of the unconscious rykors, and crossingthe threshold disappeared within.